•! 


,cA-^ 


/' 


^         r.'>^* 


THE    FRENCH    RENAISSANCE 


IN   ENGLAND 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 


A  LIFE  OF  WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE. 

GREAT    ENGLISHMEN   OF   THE    SIX- 
TEENTH CENTURY. 

SHAKESPEARE    AND    THE    MODERN 

STAGE. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  FACSIMILE  Re- 
productions OF  THE  SHAKESPEARE  FIRST 
FOLIO  AND  OF  THE  FIRST  EDITIONS  OF 
SHAKESPEARE'S  POEMS  AND  OK  PERICLES. 

INTRODUCTION   TO    A  COLLECTION 

OF  ELIZABETHAN  SONNETS. 

INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  CHRONICLE 

HISTORY  OF  KING  LEIR. 


.THE 

FRENCH  RENAISSANCE 
IN  ENGLAND. 

AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LITERARY  RELATIONS 

OF  ENGLAND  AND  FRANCE  IN  THE 

SIXTEENTH  CENTURY 


SIDNEY  LEE      TKU^. 


HON.    D.LITT.,    OXFORD  ;    HON.    LL.D.,    GLASGOW 
FELLOW    OF    THE   BRITISH    ACADEMY 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
1910 


"o  ^J-l 


,\»^'^ 


-von^'^'^ 


^-^SloS- 


PREFACE 


This  volume  is  based  on  a  series  of  six  lectures  which 
I  delivered,  under  the  title  of  '  The  Literary  Relations  of 
England  and  France  during  the  Sixteenth  Century',  before  the 
University  of  Oxford  during  the  summer  term  of  1909.  My 
thanks  are  due  to  the  Delegates  of  the  Common  University 
Fund,  on  whose  invitation  the  lectures  were  undertaken. 

In  the  course  of  preparation  for  the  press,  the  lectures  have 
been  largely  rewritten  and  expanded.  The  change  in  the 
main  title  is  justified  not  merely  by  considerations  of  brevity, 
but  also  by  the  fact  that  the  French  Renaissance  was  know^n 
in  England  almost  exclusively  through  its  written  word,  and 
only  slightly  and  subsidiarily  through  its  art. 

Although  I  have  not  attempted  to  deal  exhaustively  with 
all  the  aspects  of  the  theme,  I  hope  that  I  have  succeeded  in 
bringing  home  to  my  readers  not  merely  the  extent  of  the 
debt  which  English  literature,  thought,  and  scholarship  of 
the  Tudor  epoch  owes  to  the  French  Renaissance,  but  also 
the  interest  attaching  to  that  comparative  study  of  European 
literature,  on  which  I  have  sought  to  lift  a  corner  of  the 
curtain. 

It  is  as  a  tentative  contribution  to  a  comparative  study  of 
literature  that  I  wish  the  work  mainly  to  be  judged.  That 
study  has  been  pursued  in  this  country  on  a  smaller  scale  and 
less  systematically  than  abroad.  Yet  the  comparative  study 
of  literature  is  to  my  thinking  a  needful  complement  of  those 
philological  and  aesthetic  studies  which  chiefly  occupy  the 
attention  of  English  scholars.  The  serious  student  of  literature 
can  never  safely  ignore  the  suggestive  phrases  of  Walter  Pater  : 
'  Producers  of  great  literature  do  not  live  in  isolation,  but 
catch  light  and  heat  from  each  other's  thought.  A  people 
without  intellectual  commerce  with  other  peoples  has  never 
done  anything  conspicuous  in  literature.'     Nor  is  it  wise  to 


vi  PREFACE 

neglect  the  sagacious  counsel  of  Matthew  Arnold :  '  The 
criticism  which  alone  can  much  help  us  for  the  future  is  a 
criticism  which  regards  Europe  as  being,  for  intellectual 
and  spiritual  purposes,  one  great  confederation,  bound  to 
a  joint  action  and  working  to  a  common  result.'  In  other 
words,  every  great  national  literature  is  a  fruit  of  much 
foreign  sustenance  and  refreshment,  however  capable  the 
national  spirit  may  prove  of  mastering  the  foreign  element. 
The  comparative  study  should  therefore  form  an  integral  part 
of  any  sound  analysis  of  literary  achievement.  Students  of 
literature  who  keep  their  sight  fixed  exclusively  on  a  single 
nation's  literary  work  run  the  risk  of  narrowing  and  distorting 
their  critical  judgement.  No  literature  can  be  viewed  in  a  just 
perspective  until  the  comparative  study  has  brought  foreign 
literary  effort  within  the  range  of  vision.  My  purpose  in  this 
volume  will  have  been  fulfilled  if  I  convince  discerning  stu- 
dents of  English  literature  of  the  sixteenth  century  that  know- 
ledge of  the  coeval  literature  of  France  is  required  to  verify 
their  estimates  of  the  value  and  originality  of  wellnigh  all  the 
literary  endeavour  of  Tudor  England. 


My  main  results  are  due  to  a  long-continued  parallel  study 
of  the  literary  work  of  the  two  countries.  At  the  same  time 
a  little  complementary  research  which  I  have  pursued  in 
historic  manuscripts  has  yielded  some  unexpected  fruit.  I 
cannot  find,  for  example,  that  there  has  been  printed  before 
the  letter  in  which  Montaigne's  intimate  friend  and  neighbour, 
Pierre  de  Brach,  announced,  immediately  after  the  event,  the 
great  essayist's  death  to  Francis  Bacon's  brother,  Anthony 
Bacon.^  But  while  I  have  done  what  I  could  to  explore  much 
of  the  field  for  myself,  I  have  to  acknowledge  numerous 
obligations  to  earlier  workers  in  very  varied  directions.  The 
modern  critical  editions  of  the  French  and  English  writings  of 
the  epoch,  and  the  many  recent  literary  and  biographical 
monographs  which  bear  on  them  and  their  work,  are  my  chief 

'  The  original  is  at  Lambeth  :  see  p.  173. 


PREFACE  vii 

authorities,  and  these  I  specify  in  detail  in  my  notes.'  General 
works,  which  I  have  found  of  constant  service,  are  C.  A.  Sainte- 
Beuve's  l^ableau  historique  et  critique de la poesiefraiicaise  an 
XVI'  siede,  1893;  Arsene  Darmesteter  and  Adolphe  Hatz- 
feld's  Le  XVF  siecle  en  France  :  litteratiire  et  langne^  1893  ; 
Louis  Petit  de  JuUeville's  Histoire  de  la  langue  et  de  la  litter a- 
liire  yrancaises,  torn,  iii,  Seizieme  siecle,  1897  ;  M.  Gustave 
Lanson's  Manuel  bibliogyaphique  de  la  litteratnre  fra7i- 
caise  nioderne^  I.  Seizieme  siecle,  1909  ;  together  with  the  sug- 
gestive volumes  of  M.Emile  Faguet,viz.:  La  Tragediefrancaise 
an  XVI'  siecle  (1550- 1600),  1H97;  \\\s  Seizieme  siecle:  etudes 
litter aires^  1898;  and  his  Histoire  de  la  litteratnre  fran- 
caise,  tom.  i,  Jusqu'a  la  fin  du  XVP  siecle,  1900.^  Among 
English  books  which  deal  generally  with  the  literary  history  of 
sixteenth-century  France,  by  far  the  most  useful  and  complete 
is  Mr.  Arthur  Tilley's  Literature  of  the  French  Renaissance 
(2  vols.,  1904).  I  am  grateful,  too,  for  the  help  which  I  have 
derived  from  the  writings  of  my  friend  of  five-and-twenty 
years'  standing,  M.  Jusserand,  now  French  ambassador  at 
Washington.  It  is  barely  possible  to  overpraise  M.  Jusserand's 
exhaustive  contributions  to  the  history  of  English  literature. 

^  The  text  of  Ronsard's  poetry,  which  I  quote  freely,  presents  some 
difficuhies.  I  have  used  Blanchemain's  edition  in  the  Bibliotlicque  Elze- 
viricnne  (8  vols.,  Paris,  1857-1867),  which  follows,  for  the  early  and  most 
important  work  of  the  poet,  the  first  collected  edition  of  1560  (4  vols.). 
Blanchemain  depends  for  Ronsard's  later  poetry  on  the  many  succeeding 
collective  editions,  which  Ronsard  superintended  in  his  declining  years. 
The  poet  liberally  corrected  his  text  after  its  first  publication.  Marty- 
Laveaux's  fine  edition  of  Ronsard  (6  vols.,  Paris,  1887)  adopts  the  text  of 
the  collective  edition  of  1584,  the  last  to  be  issued  in  Ronsard's  lifetime. 
There  are  consequently  several  discrepancies  between  my  citations  of 
Ronsard  and  Marty-Laveaux's  versions.  Ronsard's  early  poetry  was 
chiefly  familiar  to  the  Elizabethans,  and  they  seem  to  have  used  the  early 
editions.  The  textual  variations  are  not  material  to  my  argument,  but 
this  word  of  warning  is  necessary.  By  far  the  best  study  of  the  compli- 
cated history  of  Ronsard's  text  is  supplied  by  M.  Hugues  Vaganay's 
edition  of  the  first  book  of  Ronsard's  Amours,  based  on  the  edition  of  1578. 
This  volume  was  published  in  1 910,  with  a  preface  by  Prof.  Joseph  Vianey, 
and  an  ample  apparatus  criiicus  by  the  editor.  No  close  student  of 
Ronsard's  poetry  can  dispense  with  this  valuable  work.  Mr.  St.  John 
Lucas's  interesting  Selected  Poems  of  Pierre  de  Ronsard  {Oxioxd,  1908) 
follows  Marty-Laveaux's  text. 

^  An  English  translation  of  the  whole  of  this  work  entitled  A  Literary 
History  0/ France  was  published  by  Fisher  Unvvin  in  1907. 


viii  PREFACE 

With  some  of  his  conclusions  I  disagree,  but  I  am  none  the 
less  certain  that  no  critic  of  Tudor  literature  can  hope  for  salva- 
tion if  he  fail  to  master  M.  Jusserand's  English  Novelin  the 
Time  of  Shakespeare  (1890),  his  Shakespeare  in  France 
under  the  Ancien  Regime  (1899),  or  his  Literary  History 
of  the  English  People  from  the  Origins  to  the  Civil  War 
( 1 895-1906).  The  three  books  charm  the  reader  almost 
equally  in  the  original  French  and  in  the  English  translation. 

In  subsidiary  study  of  French  political  complications  of  the 
era,  I  have  been  aided  by  Henry  Martyn  Baird's  History  of 
the  rise  of  the  Huguenots  (1880),  and  his  Hngiienois  and 
Henry  of  Navarre  (1886),  as  well  as  by  Mr.  Edward  Arm- 
strong's The  French  Wars  of  Religioji  {i^<)2). 

It  was  only  after  my  own  labours  were  well  advanced  that 
I  enjoyed  the  benefit  of  reading  M.  Louis  Charlanne's  Linflu- 
ence  francaise  en  Angleterre  an  XVI I"  siecle^  Paris,  1906, 
and  Dr.  Alfred  Horatio  Upham's  The  French  Influence  in 
English  Literat2ire  from  the  Accession  of  Elizabeth  to  the 
Restoration  (New  York,  Columbia  University  Press,  1908). 
M.  Charlanne's  literary  survey  starts  where  I  end.  But  his 
chapters  on  social  life  have  given  me  useful  suggestions.  Dr. 
Upham  begins  his  research  at  a  somewhat  later  period  than 
myself  and  continues  his  inquiry  long  after  the  close  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  beyond  which  I  do  not  venture.  But  we  cover  in 
somewhat  different  fashion  a  substantial  part  of  the  same  ground, 
and  I  have  specified  at  various  points  my  debt  to  Dr.  Upham's 
researches.  I  have  also  benefited  by  Prof.  L.  E.  Kastner's 
papers  in  the  Modern  Language  Review  (1907-10)  on  the 
heavy  loans  which  Elizabethan  poets  levied  on  the  verse  of  the 
Pleiade.  I  had  previously  treated  this  branch  of  the  theme  in 
my  Introduction  to  Elizabethan  Sonnets  (in  Constable's  Eng- 
lish Garner^  1904),  and  in  a  paper  on  Chapman's  Amorous 
Zodiacke  in  Modern  Philology  (Chicago  University  Press, 
October,  1905).  The  latter  essay  I  reprint  in  Appendix  II  of 
this  volume,  under  the  title  George  Chapman  and  Gilles 
Durante  and  I  make  in  Appendix  I  some  fresh  additions  to 
the  PLlizabethan  poems  whose  French  originals  I  have  iden- 
tified by  my  unaided  effort.     But  Prof.  Kastner's  industry  and 


PREFACE  ix 

learning-  have  brought  to  h'ght  numerous  concrete  examples 
of  the  Elizabethan  poets'  direct  indebtedness  which  I  had 
overlooked. 

The  poetry  and  prose  of  the  French  Renaissance  would 
seem  to  have  attracted  rather  wider  attention  and  a  warmer 
appreciation  among  English  writers  of  a  past  generation 
than  among  those  of  the  present.  Louisa  Stuart  Costello's 
Specimens  of  the  Early  Poetry  of  France  (1835);  Father 
Prout's  Reliqties  (1836)  ;  and  Henry  Francis  Gary's  Early 
French  Poets  {\'^\6),  are  all  suggestive,  if  somewhat  discursive 
and  slender,  memorials  of  early  nineteenth-century  enthu- 
siasm for  French  poetry  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Prof. 
Henry  iMorley's  biographies  of  Palissy  the  Potter  (1852)  and  of 
Clement  Marot  (187 1)  are  biased  by  Protestant  feeling,  but  both 
are  interesting  efforts  of  a  mid-Victorian  student  to  deal  with 
the  literary  and  artistic  influence  of  the  Huguenots.  More 
lively  and  enlightened  are  the  studies  of  Sir  Walter  Besant  in 
his  Early  French  Poetry  (i868).  The  French  Humorists 
from  the  Tiuelfth  to  the  Nineteenth  Century  (1873),  and  his 
brief  monograph  on  Rabelais  (1885). 

During  the  second  half  of  the  last  century  four  members 
of  the  University  of  Oxford  illustrated,  to  more  scholarly  and 
satisfying  purpose,  the  great  place  that  the  French  Renais- 
sance fdls  in  the  history  of  modern  scholarship  and  culture. 
The  early  volumes  of  Algernon  Charles  Swinburne  testify  to 
his  wide  and  sympathetic  reading  in  French  poetry,  chiefly 
of  the  era  of  the  Renaissance.  The  Victorian  poet  did  much 
to  familiarize  his  o-eneration  with  the  manner  and  sentiment 
of  the  sixteenth-century  poetry  of  France.  Mark  Patti- 
son's  essays  on  French  scholars  and  scholarship  {^Essays, 
collected  in  two  vols.,  Oxford,  1889)  which  were  crowned 
by  his  biography  of  Isaac  Casaubon  (1875),  learnedly  ex- 
pound the  value  of  the  contribution  which  P>ance  of  the 
Renaissance  made  to  the  elucidation  of  Greek  language 
and  literature.  Walter  Pater  in  his  Studies  in  the  History 
of  the  Renaissance  (1873),  and  in  his  unfinished  romance 
of  Gaston  de  Latour  (1896),  defined  with  rare  insight 
the   aesthetic  quality  of  French   literature  in   the  sixteenth 


X  PREFACE 

century ;  while  Richard  Copley  Christie,  in  his  elaborate 
biography  of  Etienne  Dolet  (i8(So),  ably  supplemented  Mark 
Pattison's  earlier  exposition  of  the  achievements  of  French 
humanism.  With  these  four  writers  it  is  not  unfitting  to 
associate  the  name  of  the  late  Lady  Dilke,  whose  i?^//rt?>>yrt'?/r^ 
of  Art  in  France  (1879)  proved  the  first  of  an  important 
series  of  volumes  on  French  art  and  artists. 

Although  the  tradition  of  appreciative  study  of  the  French 
Renaissance  has  shown  of  late  years  in  England  signs  of  decay, 
it  is  incumbent  on  me  to  add  to  those  books  by  living  English 
writers  which  I  have  mentioned  already  as  giving  me  assist- 
ance and  suggestion,  Mr.  Andrew  Lang's  Ballads  and  Lyrics 
of  Old  France  (new  edition,  1907),  Mr.  George  W'yndham's 
Ronsard  and  the  Pleiade  (1906),  Prof.  Dowden's  Michel  de 
Mo7itaigne{ic)0^)^Mr.]o\\i\C  Bailey's  The  Claims  of  French 
Poetry  (1907),  and  Mr.  Rowland  E.  Prothero's  The  Pleasant 
Land  of  France  (1908). 

In  spite  of  my  efforts  to  test  my  facts  and  dates,  I  cannot 
hope  to  have  escaped  error  in  handling  a  theme  which 
demands  an  acquaintance  with  very  varied  topics  in  the 
literary  history  of  two  great  peoples  and  a  grasp  of  an 
infinitude  of  historical  and  bibliographical  detail.  Nor 
have  I  found  it  easy  to  avoid  the  occasional  repetition  of 
information  which  seemed  to  need  examination  from  more 
points  of  view  and  under  more  headings  than  one.  For  sins 
of  commission  or  omission  I  crave  my  readers'  indulgence. 
I  have  to  thank  Mr.  W.  B.  Owen,  B,A.,  formerly  scholar 
of  St.  Catharine's  College,  Cambridge,  for  helping  me  to 
compile  the  comparative  chronological  table  of  the  progress 
in  culture  and  politics  of  the  two  countries,  which  will, 
I  hope,  be  of  some  graphic  service,  Mr.  Owen  has  also 
prepared  the  index,  and  given  me  much  zealous  aid  in 
correcting  the  whole  work  for  the  press. 

S.  L. 

August  31,  1910. 


CONTENTS 


Preface        ....         ... 

Chronological  Table  of  Leading  Events 


PAGE 

V 

XV 


BOOK    I 

THE  DEBT  OF  TUDOR  CULTURE  TO  FRANCE 

L  The  Renaissance  in  Italy,  France,  and  England 
IL  England's  Litellectual  Commerce 
in.  The  Interpretative  Faculty  of  France   . 
IV.  The  Culture  of  the  French  Renaissance 
V.  French  Discipleship  to  Greece  and  Rome    . 

VI.  The  Italian  Element 

VII,  The  Diffusion  of  Renaissance  Culture  in  France 
VIII.  Tudor  Politics  :  The  Loss  of  Calais     . 
IX.  The  Elizabethan  Political  Links  . 
X.  The  Study  of  French  in  Tudor  Society 
XI.  French  Dress,  French  Wines,  and  French  Dances 
XII.  England's  Debt  to  the  Art  of  Italy  and  Germany 
XIII.  The  French  View  of  the  English  National  Character 


12 
13 

17 
21 
24 
29 

36 

42 

47 
54 

58 


BOOK   II 

FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ENGLISH  LITERATURE 
1500-1550 
I.  French  Light  and  English  Gloom         .         .         .         -65 
II.  First  Gleams  of  Tudor  Humanism        ....       67 

III.  French  Grammars  from  Tudor  Pens    ....       76 

IV.  The  Renaissance  Printers  of  France  and  England         .       80 
V.  Early  Tudor  Translations  from  French  Prose        .         .       90 

VL  Les  Rhetoriqueurs       .......       96 

VII.  French  influence  on  Skelton  and  Hawes       .         .         .101 

VIII.  Marot  and  Alamanni  :  Wyatt  and  Surrey       .         .         .     109 

IX.  The  Interregnum  in  Tudor  Poetry       .         .         .         .127 


\\ 


xu 


CONTENTS 


BOOK  III 
FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 


PAGE 

I. 

Tendencies 

of  F 

■ench  and  English  Prose     . 

•       U3 

II. 

The  Bible  in  French  and  EngHsh 

•       139 

III. 

Calvin 

•     M5 

IV. 

Amyot 

■        151 

V. 

Rabelais 

•        159 

VI. 

Montaigne 

BOOK   IV 

.       165 

FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  THE  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 


I.  The  Coming  of  Ronsard 
II.  The  Birth  of  the  Pleiade      . 

III.  Ronsard      .... 

IV.  The  Themes  of  the  Pleiade 
V.  The  Manner  of  the  Pleiade 

VI.  The  Heirs  of  the  Pleiade     . 
VII.  The  Pleiade  in  England       . 
VIII.  The  Elizabethan  rendering  of  French  Lyric  Themes 
IX.  The  Metrical  Debt  of  the  Elizabethan  Lyric  other  than 
the  Sonnet     ...... 

X.  The  Pleiade  Vocabulary  in  Elizabethan  Poetry 
XL  The  Renaissance  Theory  of  '  Imitation ' 
XII.  The  Assimilation  of  the  French  Sonnet 

XIII.  Shakespeare  and  the  French  Sonnet    . 

XIV.  The  Poetic  Vaunt  of  Immortality 


183 
186 
189 
196 
201 

2c6 

210 
217 

236 

243 
249 
252 
266 

276 


BOOK  V 
THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

I.  Characteristics  of  the  Huguenot  Movement           .         .     285 
11.  The  Civil  Wars  in  France 288 

III.  Huguenot  Settlers  and  Visitors  in  England  .         .         .     300 

IV.  The  Devotional  Literature  of  the  Huguenots        .         -307 


/i(, 


CONTENTS 


Xlll 


V.  Huguenot  Pleas  for  Political  Liberty 
VI.  Pierre  de  la  Ramee 
VII.  Huguenot  Poetry^ — Aubigne 
VIII.  Salluste  du  Bartas 
IX.  Elizabethan  Disciples  of  Du  Bartas 


PAGE 

313 

328 

333 
340 


BOOK   VI 
FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 


I.  The  Foreign  Sources  of  Elizabethan  Drama 
II.  The  Beginnings  of  French  Drama        . 

III.  The  Growth  of  the  Theatre  in  France  and  England 

IV.  The  Classical  Drama  of  the  French  Renaissance  . 
V.  The  Irregular  Drama  of  the  French  Renaissance  . 

VI.  The  Cognate  Development  of  French  and  Elizabethan 
Drama  ........ 

VII.  Elizabethan  Comedy  and  Franco-Italian  Dialogue 
VIII.  The  Early  Fortunes  of  Elizabethan  Tragedy 
IX.  Current  French  History  on  the  Elizabethan  Stage 
X.  Romantic  Tragedy,  and  other  Irregular  Dramatic  De 

velopments  in  France  and  England 
XL  The  Classical  Reaction  in  Elizabethan  Tragedy   . 
XII.  Conclusion  ....... 


359 
36s 
376 
381 
400 

416 
419 
427 
433 

438 
442 

450 


APPENDIX 

I.  Additional    Specimens    of    Elizabethan    Poetry 

WHICH  are  borrowed  WITHOUT  ACKNOWLEDGEMENT 
FROM  CONTEMPORARY  FRENCH  SOURCES 

II.  George  Chapman  and  Gilles  Durant 


454 
465 


INDEX 


479 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 


OF  LEADING  EVENTS  IN  THE  HISTORY  OF  FRENCH  AND 
ENGLISH  CULTURE  AND  POLITICS  FROM  THE  BIRTH 
OF  ERASMUS  IN  1466  TILL  THE  DEATH  OF  SHAKE- 
SPEARE IN  16161 


France. 

1466  [Birth  of  Erasmus.] 

1467  Birth  of  Bude, 

1468  Death  of  Alain  Chartier. 
1470  First  printing  press  in  Paris. 
1472   University  of  Bordeaux  founded. 
1477 


1478 

1479  Birth  of  Jean  Grolier. 

1483  Death  of  Louis  XII.     Accession 

of    Charles    VIII.      Birth    of 
Rabelais.     [Birth  of  Luther.] 

1484  Birth  of  Julius  Caesar  Scaliger 

('  the  elder  Scaliger'). 

1485  Maistre  Pierre  Palhelin  (written 

about  1469)  first  published. 


1487 
1489 
1492 

1494 

1496 

1497 

1498 


1499 
1500 


French  paraphrase  of  the  Bible 
published  at  Paris. 

Villon's  Le  Grand  Testament  et 
le  Petit. 

Birth  of  Margaret  of  Angouleme 
(afterwards  Queen  Margaret 
of  Navarre),  Martial  de  Paris, 
Vigilles  de  .  .  .  Charles  VII. 

French  invade  Italy.  [Sebastian 
Brant,  Narrenschiff."\ 

Birth  of  Clement  Marot.  Chris- 
tine de  Pisan,  La  Cite  des 
Dames.  La  Nef  des  fota,  verse 
translation  of  Brant's  satire. 

Death  of  Charles  VIII.  Acces- 
sion of  Louis  XII.  [Columbus 
discovers  the  American  con- 
tinent.] 

Gringoire,  Le  C/idteaii  de  Labour. 


England. 


Caxton  sets  up  printing  press  at  West- 
minster; prints  Moral  Proverbs  of 
Christine  de  Pisan. 

Birth  of  Sir  Thomas  More. 


Death   of  Edward   IV. 
Richard  III. 


Accession   of 


Death  of  Richard  III.  Accession  of 
Henry  VII.  Linacre  goes  to  Italy. 
Malory's  Le  Morie  Arthur, 


James  IV  becomes  King  of  Scotland. 


Colet  and  Erasmus  in  Paris. 
[Birth  of  Holbein.] 


Erasmus  first  visits  England ;  resides 
at  Oxford. 


Barclay's  Castell  of  Labour  from  Grin- 
goire's  French. 


1  A  few  events  (other  than  French)  of  European  moment  are  inserted  between 
square  brackets.  Where  authors'  names  and  titles  of  books  are  given  without 
added  word,  the  year  to  which  the  entry  is  attached  is  that  of  first  publication 
of  the  cited  works. 


XVI 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 


France. 
1501  Henri  Etienne  sets  up  press  at 

Paris. 
1502 


1504  Lc  Ma  ire  de  Beiges,  Le  Temple 
(f  Honncur  et  de  Vcrtti.  Grin- 
goirc,  Les  Abus  dii  Monde. 

1508 


1509  Birth  of  Calvin. 


15 10  Le  Maire  de  Beiges,  L'Anmnt 

vert. 

151 1  Gringoire's  Lc  Jen  dit  Prince  des 

Sots  played  before  Louis  XI L 

1513  \y[a.ch\a.ve[\\s,  Prince  composed.] 

Birth  of  Amyot. 

1514  ~5^ 

1515  Death  of  Louis  XIL     Accession 

of  Francis  L 

1516  Bude  writes  Institution  dii  Prince, 

1517  Bude,  De  Asse  et partibus  cins. 


1518 

1519  [Charles  V  elected  Emperor  of 
Germany.]  Birth  of  Theodore 
Beza. 

1520 

1521  [Luther    translates     Bible     inlo 

German.] 

1522  Bude     appointed     librarian      to 

Francis  I  ;  begins  royal  collec- 
tion of  Greek  MSS. 
1523 

1524  Birth    of   Ronsard.       Rabelais's 

Pauiagrucl  possibly  published. 

1525  Battle  of  Pavia,  defeat  of  French, 

and  capture  of  Francis  L 
End  of  the  French  invasion  of 
Italy. 
1527  Margaret  of  Angouleme  marries 
as  second  husband  Henry 
d'Albret,  King  of  Navarre, 
and  opens  her  literary  court. 
Francis  I's  reconstruction  and 
decoration  of  Fontainebleau 
and  the  Louvre  begins. 


England. 


Lady  Margaret  Beaufort  founds  pro- 
fessorships of  Divinity  at  Oxford 
and  Cambridge. 


Lady  Margaret  Beaufort  endows  St. 
John's  College,  Cambridge.  Bar- 
clay's Ship  of  Fooles — translation  of 
Brant's  satire. 

Death  of  Henry  Vll.  Accession  of 
Henry  VIII.  Death  of  Lady  Mar- 
garet Beaufort.  Colet  founds  St. 
Paul's  School.  Richard  Pynson  first 
royal  printer.  Erasmus's  Encoiniiitn 
Moriae.     Hawes's  Passetyme  ofPlca- 


James  V  becomes  King  of  Scotland. 

Henry    VIII's    sister    Mary    marries 

Louis  XII  of  France. 
More  in  Flanders. 

Mora's  Utopia  published  at  Antwerp. 

Erasmus  finally  leaves  England. 
London  riots  against  foreigners 
('Evil  May  Day'). 

Linacre  founds  the  College  of  Phy- 
sicians in  London. 

Death  of  Colet.     Erasmus's  Colloqitia. 


Meeting  of  Henry  VIII  and  Francis  I 
at  the  '  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold  '. 

Barclay's  Introdnctorie  to  write  and  to 
pronounce  French. 


Lord  Berners"  translation  of  Froissart's 
Chronicles,  vol.  i  ^vol.  ii,  1525). 

Death  of  Linacre  and  Stephen  Hawcs. 
Skelton's  Garlande  of  Laurell. 

Tyndale's  New  Testament  in  English. 


Holbein  visits  England.   William  Lily's 
Grauiinaticcs  Rudinicnta. 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 


xvii 


France. 

1529  Treaty    of    Cambray    between 

Francis  I  and  the  Emperor 
Charles  V.  Bude's  Commen- 
tarii  Linguae  Graecae.  Tory's 
Chanip-Flenry.  Foundation  of 
the  College  de  France. 

1530  Flight  of  Florentine  scholars  to 

France  on  fall  of  the  republic. 
Le  Fevre's  French  translation 
of  the  Bible. 

1531 

1532  Alamanni's        Opire        Toscane 

(Lyons).  Machiavelli's  II Prin- 
cipe. Rahelnis^s  Pantagrttel,  first 
extant  edition.  Birth  of  J.  A. 
de  Bai'f.  First  collection  of 
_ .  Marot's  CEtivres.  Margaret  of 
Navarre,  Le  Miroir  de  Vditte 
pechercsse. 

1533  Birth    of    Montaigne.      Marot's 

edition  of  Villon's  CEuvres. 
College  de  Guienne  opened  at 
Bordeaux.  Catherine  de'  Me- 
dici marries  the  dauphin,  after- 
wards Henry  II. 

1534  Rabelais's     Gargaiilna.       Death 

of  Gringoire  ,?).  Franfois 
Clouet's  portrait  of  Francis  I, 
Protestants  of  Paris  denounce 
the  Mass.  Cartier  explores 
North  America. 

1535  Olivetan's  French  Bible. 


1536  Ramus  attacks  Aristotelian  logic 
at  Paris.  [Death  of  Erasmus 
at  Basle.]  Calvin's  Christianae 
Religionis  Institutio. 

1537 

1538  Marot's  Poems  collected.     Dolet 

sets  up  press  at  Lyons. 

1539  The    acting    brotherhood    '  Les 

Confreres  de  la  Passion  '  in- 
stalled at  the  Hotel  de  Flandres. 
University  of  Nismes  founded 
chiefly  by  Margaret  of  Navarre. 

1540  Death  of  Bude.     Birth  of  Joseph 

Justus  Scaliger  (the  younger 
Scaliger  .  Dolet's  La  nianiere 
de  bien  tradmre. 


154 1  Calvin's  Institution  de  la  religion 
Chresttennc  (first  French  edi- 
tion). Calvin  finally  estab- 
lishes his  religious  autocracy 
at  Geneva.  Queen  Margaret 
of  Navarre  begins  the  Hepta- 
tneron. 


England. 
Death  of  John  Skelton. 


Palsgrave's    L'Esclanisseinent    de    la 
langiie/ranfoyse.     Death  of  Pynson. 


Sir  Thomas  Elyot's  Goveriiour. 
Henry  VIII,  with  Anne  Boleyn,  visits 
Francis  I. 


Henry  VIII  divorces  Queen  Catherine 
of  England  and  marries  Anne  Bo- 
leyn, 


Lord  Berners'^s  translation  of  Huon  of 
Biirdeitx.  Henry  VIII  declared 
supreme  head  of  the  Church  in  Eng- 
land. 


Execution  of  Sir  Thomas  More.  Cover- 
dale's  Bible  vfirst  complete  English 
translation). 

Death  of  Tyndale. 


Matthew's  English  Bible. 

James  V  of  Scotland  marries  Marie  of 

Guise. 
The  'Great'  Bible  in  English. 


Udall's  Ralph  Roister  Doister,  the  first 
English  comedy,  acted  at  Eton. 
Nonesuch  Palace  nearCheam  begun 
by  Henry  VIII.  Regius  professor- 
ships founded  by  Henry  VIII  at 
Oxford. 


XVIll 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 


France. 

1542  Antoine    Heroet's   La  Parfaicte 

Atiiyc.  Persecution  of  French 
Protestants  begins.  Bucha- 
nan's Jephthes  acted  by  stu 
dents  at  Bordeaux.  Ariosto's 
Gli  SupposUi  in  French  trans- 
lation. Dolet's  translation  of 
Cicero's  Letters. 

1543  Ramus's    Aristotelicae    Animad- 

versiones  published  and  sup- 
pressed. 

1544  Death  of  Marot.     New  edition 

of  his  CEuvres.  [Birth  of 
Tasso]  Birth  of  Du  Bartas. 
Sfeve's  Delie. 

1545  Le   Ma9on's  French    translation 

of    the    Decameron.      French 
translation     of    Ariosto's    Gli 
,  Suppositi. 

1546  Etienne  Dolet  burnt.     [Death  of 

Luther.]  Birth  of  Desportes. 
Bude's  Iiistittition  du  Prince. 
Rabelais's  Pantagruel  (Book 
III). 

1547  Death  of  Francis  IL     Accession 

of  Henry  II.  Margaret  of 
Navarre's  Les  Marguerites  de 
la  Marguerite  des  princesses. 
Saint-Gelais's  CEuvres.  Amyot's 
V Histoire^thiopique.  Ramus's 
Institutionum  dialecticarutn 
libri  tres. 

1548  '6\\yA&\.^ %  Art poetique.    Rabelais's 

Pantagruel  Book  IV:.  Reli- 
gious drama  prohibited  in 
Paris  The  actors  '  Les  Con- 
freres de  la  Passion  '  occupy 
and  rebuild  the  Hotel  de  Bour- 
gogne  in  Paris. 

1549  Death    of    Queen    Margaret    of 

Navarre.  Birth  of  Du  Plessis. 
Formation  of  the  Pleiade.  Du 
Bella3''s  Deffense  et  illustration 
de  la  langue  fran^oise,  Olive. 
and  Recueil. 

1550  M  ore's  Utopia  in  French  transla- 

tion. Ronsard's  Odes.  Theo- 
dore de  Bfeze's  Abraham  sa- 
crifiant.     Birth  of  Aubigne. 

1551  Jean  Bretog's  Tragedie  franfotse 

produced  in  Paris.  The 
Geneva  Psalter. 

1552  ^shoiaXs's  Pantagruel  [Book  IV 

completed'.  Ronsard's 

Amours.  Bal'f's  Amours.  Jo- 
delle's  Cleopdtre  and  Eugene 
first  performed  before  Charles 
IX  in  Paris.  Ambroise  Pare 
appointed  surgeon  to  the 
French  King. 


England. 
Death  of  James  V  of  Scotland.   Acces- 
sion of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  Death 
of  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt. 


Death  of  Holbein  in  London.  First 
Greek  book  printed  in  England  by 
Reginald  Wolf. 

Henry  VIII  invades  France  and  takes 
Boulogne. 


Treaty   of  Ardres   between    England 
and  France. 


Death  of  Henry  VIII.  Accession  of 
Edward  VI.  Death  of  the  Earl  of 
Surrey. 


Foreign  Protestants  welcomed  to  Eng- 
land. Mary  Queen  of  Scots  sent  to 
France. 


English  Book  of  Common  Prayer. 


More's  Utopia  translated  into  English. 
Shrewsbury  School  founded. 

Birth  of  Edmund  Spenser  and  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh.  Death  of  Alexander 
Barclay. 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 


XIX 


Francf, 

'553  Birth     of     Henry    of     Navarre 
Henr3'  IV  of  France).     Birth 
of  De  Thou.     Death  of  Rabe- 
lais.   Magny's  Amours.    [Ser- 
vetus  burnt  at  Geneva.] 

1554  Magny's    Gayetes.       Henri    Mix- 

enne's  cditio  princeps  oi  A)ia- 
creoit. 

1555  Huguenot  settlement  in  Brazil. 

The  sculptor  Goujon  begins 
work  at  the  Louvre.  Ron- 
sard's  llyinnes  and  Ainonrs  de 
Marie.  Louise  Labd's  (F.uvtes. 
Vauquelin  de  la  Fresnaie's 
Foresknes  (Books  I  and  II \ 
Ramus's  Dialectiqtte. 

1557  Magny's   Lea   Soiipirs.     La    Pe- 

ruse's  Mi'dee. 

1558  Death  of  Julius  Caesar  Scaliger 

(  Scaliger  the  Elder).  Death  of 
Melin  de  Saint-Gelais.  Queen 
Margaret's  Histoire  des  Ainaiis 
Fortunes  'reissued  next  year  as 
the  L'Heptaineron^.  Perlin's 
Description  of  England  (^  Paris). 
Du  Bellay's  Regrets.  Germain 
Pilon,  the  sculptor,  begins 
work  on  royal  tombs  at  St. 
Denis. 

1559  Peace  of  Cateau  Cambresis  be- 

tween France,  Spain,  and 
England.  Death  of  Henry  II. 
Accession  of  Francis  II.  Ca- 
therine de'  Medici,  queen- 
mother.  Amyot's  translations 
of  Plutarch's  Lives  and  of 
Longus's  Daphnis  and  Chloe. 
Magny's  Odes.  Du  Bellay's 
Le  pocte  conrtisan.  Bandello's 
Les  Histoires  tragiqites  (trans- 
lated by  Boaistuau  and  Belle- 
forest). 

1560  Death  of  Francis  II.     Accession 

of  Charles  IX.  L'Hopital  be- 
comes Chancellor  of  France. 
Conspiracy  of  Amboise.  Death 
of  Du  Bell  ay.  Pasquier's  Re- 
cherches  de  la  France  (Book  I). 
Ronsard's  CEuvres  (first  col- 
lective edition).  Hotman's 
Le  Tigrc,  an  attack  on  Cardinal 
de  Lorraine. 

1561  Death    of    Magny.       Scaliger's 

Poetics.  Grevin's  Tludtre  in- 
cluding his  Ctsar. 


England. 
Death   of  Edward  VI.     Accession  of 
Mary.     Wilson's  Arte  of  Rhetorique. 


Birth  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney. 


Tottel's  Miscellany.  Nonesuch  Palace 
completed.  Incorporation  of  the 
Stationers'  Company  in  London. 

Loss  of  Calais.  Death  of  Queen  Mary. 
Accession  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots  marries  Francis  II 
of  France. 


Mirror fo>  Magistrates,  first  part. 


The    'Genevan'     Bible    in    English. 
Westminster  School  founded. 


Birth  of  Bacon.  Norton's  translation 
of  Calvin's  Institution  of  Christian 
Religion.  English  version  of  the 
Genevan  Psalter. 


XX 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 


France. 

1562  Outbreak  of  Religious  War  in 

France.  Huguenots  defeated 
at  Dreux.  Huguenot  settle- 
ment in  Florida.  Ronsard's 
Discours des  miseresde ce  temps. 

1563  Duke  of  Guise  killed  at  siege  of 

Orleans  (18  Feb.'.  Peace  of 
Amboise  (19  March).  Death 
of  La  Boetie. 

1564  Death  of  Calvin    27  May).     Ra- 

belais' Paiitagniel  (Book  V). 

1565  [Cinthio's  Hecatommithi7\    Ron- 

sard's  Abrige  de  I'art  poetique 
franfois  and  Elegies.  Pasquier's 
Reche)ches{Boo'k.sl~ll).  Death 
of  Grolier. 

1566  Death    of   Louise    Labe.     Louis 

des  Masures'  David  combai- 
iant,  David  fngitif,  and  David 
triomphant. 

1567  Defeat  of  Huguenots  at  battle  of 

St.  Denis  (10  Nov.).  Ron- 
sard's  (E/^f/rs  (6  vols.).  Baif's 
Le  Brave  performed. 

1568  Garnier's  Porcie. 

1569  Huguenots    defeated    at    Jarnac 

(March).  Death  of  Conde. 
Defeat  of  Coligny  at  Moncon- 
tour  (October).  Du  Bellay's 
CEiivres.  Scevole  de  Saint- 
Marthe's  Premieres  (Envres. 

1570  Peace  of  St.  Germain  (August). 

Death  of  Grevin.  Ba'if  opens 
his  Academie  de  Poesie  et  de 
Musique. 

1 57 1  De  la  Porte's  Les  Epithetes.    Visit 

of  '  I  Gelosi '  (Italian  actors) 
to  Paris.    [Battle  of  Lepanto.] 

1572  The  St.  Bartholomew  Massacre 

in  Paris  (24  Aug.) .  M  urder  of 
Coligny  and  Ramus.  Death 
of  Goujon.  Amyot  translates 
Plutarch's  Moralia.  Ronsard's 
Fraiiciade.  Belleau's  Bergeries. 
Baif's  Poems  (collective  edi- 
tion). Jean  de  la  Taille's  Saill 
le  fitrieux.  Henri  Etienne's 
Thesaurus  Graecae  Linguae. 

1573  Sieges  of  Rochelle  and  Sancerre. 

Death  of  Jodelle.  Death  of 
L'Hopital.  Du  Bartas's  La 
Muse  Clnesfiemic .  Desportes' 
Les  premieres  ceuvrcs.  Jean 
de  la  Taille's  La  Famine  and 
LesCorrivaux.  Garnier's  Hip- 
polyic  Belleau's  La  Rccomiue. 
Hotmail's  Franco-Gallin. 


England. 
English  army  supports  Huguenots  in 
Normandy.     Garbodtic  acted  at  the 
Inner  Temple. 


Ascham's  Schoolmaster  written.  Ri- 
baut's  Description  of  Florida  from  the 
French. 

Treaty  of  Troyes  between  France  and 
England.  Birth  of  Marlowe  and 
Shakespeare. 

Mary  Queen  of  Scots  marries  Henry 
Stewart,  Earl  of  Darnley. 


Birth  of  James  VI  of  Scotland.  Udall's 
Ralph  Roister  Doister  ^r'lnied.  Paint- 
er's Palace  of  Pleasure.  Gascoigne's 
Supposes  acted  at  Gray's  Inn. 

James  VI  becomes  king  of  Scotland. 
Rugby  School  founded.  Golding's 
translation  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses. 
George  Turberville's  translation  of 
Mantuanus'  Eclogues. 

The  '  Bishops '  Bible  in  English. 
Skelton's  Poems  (complete  edition). 

A  Theatre  for  Worldlings  (containing 
Spenser's  renderings  of  Du  Bellay 
and  Marot\  Heywood's  Four  Ps 
first  printed. 


Ascham's  Schoolmaster.  Royal  Ex- 
change opened  in  London  (begun 
1566). 


Birth  of  Inigo  Jones  and  John  Donne. 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 


XXI 


Franck. 

1574  Death  of  Charles  IX.    Henry  III 

becomes  King  of  France. 
[Death  of  Cinthio.]  Jodelle's 
CEuvres.  Garnier's  Cornclie. 
Discours  nifivet'lleiix,  an  at- 
tack on  Queen  Catherine  de' 
Medici. 

1575  Pahssy's  public  lectures  inaugu- 

rate the  science  of  Geology. 
Jamyn's  CEuvres  pocliqucs. 
Vauquelin  de  la  Fresnaie's 
UArt  poetiqitc  fran^ois  begun. 
Duplessis-Mornay's  Discours 
de  la  vie  et  de  la  mort.  Birth 
of  Montchretien. 

1576  Henry   of    Navarre    heads    the 

Protestants  in  France.  Pierre 
de  Brach's  Fo^w^5.  Belleau's 
Pierrcs precieuses.  Baif's  Mimes 
(Book  I).  Bodin's  Republique 
(six  books).  Boetie'sCo«/;''t/«. 
Gentillet's  attack  on  Machia- 
velli's  creed. 

1577  Death   of  Belleau.     '  I   Gelosi ' 

(.Italian  actors)  again  visit 
Paris.  Aubigne's  Les  Tragi- 
queshegnn  (published  1617). 


1578  Du  Bartas's  La  Seinaiiie.     YLon- 

sard's  (E/^i'ri's  i5  vols)..  Henri 
Etienne's  Deux  dialogues  du 
Houveau  fra)i^ois  italianise. 
Garnier's  Marc  -  Antoine. 
French  translation  of  Monte- 
mayor's  Diana. 

1579  Larivey's  Six  premieres  cowiedies. 

Garnier's  La  Troade.  Du 
Plessis  -  Mornay's  Vindiciae 
contra  tyrannos,  Henri  Eti- 
enne's De  la  Precellence  du 
Langage  fratifois.  Pontoux's 
L'Idee. 

1580  Montaigne's  Essais  (two  books). 

Garnier's  Antigone.  Bodin's 
Demonomanie  des  Sorciers. 
Beza's  hones. 

1581  Du    Plessis's  De  la    veritv   de   la 

religion  chrestienne. 


1582  Garnier's  Bradaniante.  Mon- 
taigne's Essais  (2nd  edition^. 
Belleforest's  Histoires  tragi- 
ques  (from  Bandello),  new 
edition  completed.  Tessier's 
Premier  Livre  d'Airs. 


England. 
Negotiations  begun  for  marriage  of  the 
Duke  of  Alen9on  with  Queen  Eliza- 
beth. 


George  Gascoigne's  Posies. 


First  public  theatre  in  London. 


Kendall's     Flowers     oj    Epigrammes. 
Golding's     translation     of     Beza's    \ 
Abraham  sacrifiant.     Patrick's  Dis-     \ 
course  upon  the  nieanes  of  wel  govern- 
ing, written  (a  translation  of  Gentil- 
let's tract  against  Machiavelli\ 

Mirror  for  Magistrates  (complete  edi- 
tion). 


Gosson's  School  of  Abuse.  North's 
translation  of  Plutarch's  Lives  (from 
Amyot's  French).  Spenser's  5/2^/>- 
heard's  Calender.  Gabriel  Harvey, 
Sidney,  and  Spenser  form  society 
of  the  Areopagus.  Lyly's  Euphues, 
the  Anatomy  o/Wit.  Birth  of  John 
Fletcher.     First  Scotch  Bible. 

L3'ly's  Euphues  and  his  England. 


Francis,  Duke  of  Anjou,  in  England 
to  sue  for  hand  in  marriage  of 
Queen  Elizabeth.  Sxdn&y^s  Arcadia 
finished;  Sonnets  and  Apologie  for 
Poetrie  begun. 

Thomas  Watson's  Hecatompathia  or 
Passionate  Centurie  of  Love.  Per- 
manent printing  press  established  at 
Cambridge  University.  Hakluyt's 
Divers  Voyages.  Beza's  Christia)i 
Meditations. 


XXI 1 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 


France. 

1583  Garnier's  Les  Jitives.     J.  J.  Sca- 

liger's  De  Emendatione  Tem- 
po rum, 

1584  Death  of  the  Duke  of  Alenfon 

(June).  The  Holj'  League 
formed.  Du  Bartas's  La  Se- 
conde  Semaiiie.  Ronsard's 
CEnvres  (i  vol.  folio").  French 
translation  of  Tasso's  Annnta. 
Death  of  Franfois  Clouet  the 
painter. 

T585  Death    of    Ronsard    (27    Dec). 
Garnier's  Tragedies. 

1586  Pasquier's  Letters   ten  books\ 


1587  Henry  of  Navarre's  victory  at 
Coutras.  La  Noue's  Discoitrs 
politiqttes  et  uiilitaires.  Du 
Bartas  visits  James  VI  at 
Edinburgh, 


1588  Murder  of  Henry  of  Guise  and 

the  Cardinal  of  Guise  (De- 
cember). Montaigne's  Essais 
(^Book  Iin. 

1589  Death   of  Catherine  de'   Medici 

(January).  Henry  HI  assas- 
sinated (July  31).  Henry  IV 
claims  French  crown.  Death 
of  J.  A.  de  Half.  Pierre 
Matthieu's  play  of  Zrt  Guisiade 
popular  in  Paris. 

1590  Henry     IV's     victory     at     Ivry 

(March  i4\  Death  of  Charles 
X,  claimant  to  the  throne 
(May).  Death  of  Pare,  Palissy. 
Du  Bartas,  Cujas.and  Hotman. 

1 591  Death  of  La  Noue. 


1592  Death  of  Montaigne.     Death  of 

Alexander  of  Parma  iDec.  8\ 
Le  Gitysieit  produced. 

1593  Henry   IV  becomes   a   Catholic 

July  25).  French  translation 
of  Guarini's  //  Pastor  Fido. 
J.  J.  Scaliger  appointed  pro- 
fessor at  Leyden.  Death  of 
Amyot. 


England. 


Birth  of  Francis  Beaumont.  John 
Soothern's  Pandora  (an  imitation  of 
Ronsard).  Lyly's  Campaspe  pro- 
duced  at   Court.       Munday's    Tivo 

J  Italian    Gentieiiteii.     Thomas    Hud- 

J  son's    translation    of    Du    Bartas's 

tf  'Judith.     Scot's  Discovcrie  of  Witch- 

"-  craft.  Temple's  annotated  edition 
of  Ramus's  Dialectica. 

Permanent  printing  press  established 
at  Oxford  University.  Raleigh's 
endeavours  to  colonize  Virginia. 

English  army  supports  Protestants  of 
Low  Countries.  Death  of  Sir  Philip 
Sidney.  Hooker's  Ecclesiastical 
Polity  begun. 

Execution  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots. 
Thomas  Nashe's  Unfortunate  Tra- 
veller. Greene's  Debate  betiveen 
Follie  and  Lone,  a  rendering  of 
Louise  Labe's  Dibat.  Marlowe, 
Lodge,  Greene,  and  Peele  begin 
writing  for  the  English  stage.  Mar- 
lowe's Tambcrlaine  produced. 

Defeat  of  the  Spanish  Armada. 
Part  of  Du  Plessis's  Vindiciae,  pub- 
lished in  English.  Yonge's  Mitsica 
Transalpina.     Greene's  Pandosto. 

Puttenham's  Arte  of  English  Poesie. 
Arthur  Golding  completes  and  pub- 
lishes Sidney's  translation  of  Du 
Plessis's  '  Truth  of  Christianity '. 
Hakluyt's  Principall  Navigations. 


Sidney's  Arcadia.  Spenser's  Faerie 
Queene  (Books  I-III).  Lodge's 
Rosalynde.     Countess  of  Pembroke 

f.  translates  Garnier's  Marc-Aiitoine. 

Two  English  armies  support  Henry  IV 
of  France  in  Northern  France,  one 
under  Earl  of  Essex.  Sidney's  As- 
trophcl  and  Stella.  Spenser's  Daph- 
naida  and  Complaints.  Shake- 
speare's Love's  Labour's  Lost  written. 

Shakespeare  remodels  Henry  VL 
Constable's  Diana  and  Daniel's 
Delia  (first  editions\ 

Death  of  Marlowe.  Lodge's  William 
Longbeaid  and  Phillis.  Shake- 
speare's Venits  and  Adonis.  Dray- 
ton's Idea.  Watson's  Tears  of 
Fancie.  Countess  of  Pembroke's 
translation  of  Du  Plessis's  Discourse 
of  Life  and  Death. 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLH 


XXlll 


Fkance. 

1594  Henry  IV  enters   Paris,  and  is 

crowned  King  i^Feb.  27\  La 
Saiyir  Metiippcc.  Jean  Go- 
dard's  Les  Degnisis.  Durant's 
CEuvres  pot'tiqiics,  including  Lc 
Zodiac  AMioureitx'  PiYSi^vmiQd 
1587). 

1595  [Death  of  Tasso.] 


1596  Death  ol  Bodin. 


1597  Passerat's  Poemes  (Book  I). 


1598  Edict  of  Nantes.  Henry  IV 
grants  toleration  to  the  Pro- 
testants. Installation  of  pio- 
fessional  actors  at  the  Hotel 
de  Bourgogne,  with  Alexandre 
Hardy  as  playright.  Death  of 
Henri  Etienne. 

1599 

1600  Death  of  Garnier. 


1601  Biron's   conspiracy. 

tien's      Tragedies. 

CEuvres  poetiques. 
r6o2  Execution   of  Biron. 

Vers    amoureux. 

Passerat. 
1603 


Montchre- 
Bertaut's 

Bertaut's 
Death     of 


n. 


1604  De     Thou's    History    (Part 

Death  of  Beza  at  Geneva. 

1605  [Cervantes'    Don   Quixote  (Part 

I)."l      Vauquelin    de    la    Fres- 
naie's         Diverses  poesies. 

Hardy's  Alpliee. 

1606  Death  of  Desportes.     Passerat's 

CEuvres    Poeliques.       Birth    of 
Corneille. 


Engl.\nd.  ^^ 

Shakespeare's  Lucrece.  Daniel's  Cleo- 
patra. Marlowe's  Dido  and  Ed- 
ward  II.  Kyd's  version  of  Garnier'*^ 
Coriielie.  Chapman's  Shadotv  of 
Night.  Tasso'' s  Melaiicliolv  produced 
at  the  Rose  Theatre. 

Death  of  Thomas  Kyd.  The  Countess 
of  Pembroke's  version  of  Garnier's 
Marc-Aiitoiiic.  English  translation 
of  La  Satyre  Minippte  -A  Pleasant 
Satyre — A  Satyre  Memppised\  Sid- 
ney's Apologiefor  Poetrie.  Spenser's 
Colin  Clout.,  Antoretti,  and  Epitha- 
lamion.  Chapman's  Ovids  Banquet 
of  Sence  (^including  TJie  Amorous 
Zodiacke). 

Spenser's  View  of  the  State  of  Ireland 

completed.    Spenser's  Faerie  Queenc 

Books    IV-VI)   and    Prothalaniion. 

Lodge's  Margarite  of  America.  Death 

of  Sir  Francis  Drake. 

Bacon's  Essays  (1st  edition).  Hooker's 
Ecclesiastical  Polity  (five  books  . 
Shakespeare  writes  i  Henry  IV. 

Globe  Theatre  built.  Sidney's  Arcadia 
in  folio.  Jonson's  Every  Man  in  his 
Humour  acted.  Chapman  com- 
pletes Marlowe's  Hero  and  Leandev. 
Love's  Labour's  Lost  in  quarto. 


Death  of  Edmund  Spenser.  Peele's 
David  and  Bethsabe. 

Earl  of  Essex's  rebellion  and  execu- 
tion. Fairfax's  translation  of  Tasso's 
Jerusalem  Delivered.  Sir  William 
Cornwallis's  Essays.  Marlowe's 
Massacre  at  Paris.   Death  of  Hooker. 

Ttvo  tragedies  in  one  published.  Web- 
ster's The  Guise  produced. 

Shakespeare's  Hamlet  produced.  Da- 
vison's Poetical  Rhapsody.  Bodley's 
Library  opened  at  Oxford. 

Death  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  Accession 
of  James  I.  Florio's  translation  of 
Montaigne's  Essais.  Hamlet,  the 
First  Quar'-o. 

England  makes  peace  with  Spain. 
Handet,  the  Second  Quarto. 

Bacon's  Advancement  of  Learning. 
Ben  Jonson's  Volponc  produced. 


English  translation  ol    Bodin's  Repu- 
bliquc  by  Richard  Knolles. 


XXIV 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 


France. 
1607   Death  of  Vauquelin  de  la  Frcs- 
naie.     Hardy's  Coriolaii. 


1608 


1609  Henry  IV  assassinated.  Acces- 
sion of  Louis  Xni.  Regnier's 
Satires  (I-XH).  Death  of  J.  J. 
Scaliger. 

161 1  Death  of  Bertaut.  Larivey's 
Comedies  (Part  H). 


1612  Regnier's   Satires  (revised   edi- 

tion). 

1613  [Death  of  Guarini.] 

1614 

1615  [Cervantes'   Don    Quixote  (Part 

H).]     Montchretien,  Traite  dc 
V  (Economie  politique. 

1616  [Death     of     Cervantes.]       Au- 

bigne's     Les     Tragiques    pub- 
Hshed  (written  in  1577). 


England. 

Ben  Jonson's  Volpone.  Alexander's 
Monarchicke  Tragedies.  Chapman's 
Bussy  d^ Ainbois.  Tomkis's  Lingua . 
First  collective  edition  of  Sylvester's 
translation  of  Du  Bartas's  La  Se- 
iiiaiiie  complete. 

King  Lear  in  quarto.  Chapman's 
Byron's  Conspiracy  and  Tragedy. 
Birth  of  Milton. 

Spenser's  Works  published  in  quarto. 
Shakespeare's  Sonnets,  Troilus  and 
Cressida,  and  Pericles  in  quarto.  An- 
tony and  Cleopatra  and  Coriolanus 
probably  produced. 

Cotgrave's  French- English  Dictionary. 
Coryat's  Circdities.  Shakespeare's 
Tempest  written.  The  Authorised 
Version  of  the  Bible. 

Bacon's  Essays  (and  edition  .  Death 
of  Robert  Cecil,  Earl  of  Salisbury. 

Chapman's  Revenge  of  Bussy  d'Ani- 
bois. 

Raleigh's  History  of  the  World. 


Death  of  Hakluj't,  Francis  Beaumont, 
and  Shakespeare.  William  Drum- 
mond  of  Hawthornden's  Poems. 


BOOK    I 

THE   DEBT   OF  TUDOR   CULTURE 
TO   FRANCE 


I 


The  Renaissance  in  Italy,  France,  and  England 

English  literature  of  the  sixteenth  century  reached  its 
uhimate  triumph  in  the  drama  and  poetry  of  vShakespeare. 
On  this  fact  the  historian  and  the  critic  dwell  with  a  just 
persistence.  Less  attention  is  commonly  bestow^ed  on  the 
equally  instructive  truth  that  English  literature  of  the  six- 
teenth century  w^as  no  spontaneous,  no  merely  local  or 
isolated  manifestation,  but  a  late  and  slowly  maturing  fruit 
of  the  widespread  European  movement  which  is  known  as 
the  Renaissance.  Elizabethan  literature  has  an  unassailable 
line  of  foreign  descent  and  kinship.  Whatever  justification 
historian  or  critic  may  allege  for  the  prevalent  disregard  of 
the  pedigree,  there  lurks  in  the  apathy  a  risk  of  distorting 
the  historical  vision,  of  clouding  the  critical  judgement. 

The  Renaissance  may  be  defined  in  its  broadest  aspect 
as  a  strenuous  effort  on  the  part  of  Western  Europe  to 
eliminate  barbarism  and  rusticity  from  the  field  of  man's 
thought,  and  to  substitute  humanism  and  liberal  culture  of 
infinite  scope.  The  discov^ery  of  Greek  literature  and  the 
renewed  study  of  the  Latin  classics  were  the  exciting  causes 
of  the  movement.  But  the  Renaissance  was  far  more  than 
a  literary  revival ;  it  was  a  regeneration  of  human  sentiment, 
a  new  birth  of  intellectual,  aesthetic,  and  spiritual  aspiration. 
Life  throughout  its  sweep  was  invested  w^ith  a  new  signifi- 
cance and  a  new  potentiality.  While  sympathy  was  awakening 
with  the  ideas  and  forms  of  Greek  and  Latin  literature,  other 
forces  were  helping  to  kindle  a  sense  of  joy,  a  love  of  beauty, 
a  lively  interest  in  animate  and  inanimate  nature — of  an  unpre- 
cedented quality.  The  past  fails  to  account  for  all  the  new 
growth  of  artistic  sensibility,  of  intellectual  and  spiritual  curio- 
sity.  The  present,  with  its  discovery  of  the  new  western  world 

B  2 


4  .'.  iFRANGE-; ANA, TUDOR   CULTURE 

and  the  recasting  of  cosmography,  bred  a  novel  and  an  inde- 
pendent stimulus.  Never  before  was  seen  so  versatile  an 
ingenuity  in  adapting  old  forms  of  expression  to  changed 
conceptions  of  mind  and  matter.  The  fertilizing  forces  of  the 
Renaissance  begot  a  new  world  of  art  and  letters,  which  was 
fired  by  a  double  ardour  of  revolution  and  of  restoration. 

It  was  in  Italy  that  the  stirring  movement  was  born  and 
nurtured.  It  crossed  the  Alps  somewhat  sluggishly.  Thence 
it  passed  at  varying  intervals  and  at  different  rates  of  progress 
into  France,  Germany,  Spain,  and  England. 

England  was  slow  to  enlist  in  this  triumphant  advance  of 
humanism,  in  this  mighty  march  of  mind.  The  culture  of  the 
Renaissance  blossomed  late  in  the  British  isle,  far  later  than 
in  Italy,  or  indeed  in  France.  Nor  did  the  English  soil  prove 
equal  to  fostering  the  humanist  development  in  all  the  fields 
of  artistic  endeavour  which  the  new  spirit  fructified  abroad. 
No  original  painting,  no  original  music,  no  original  archi- 
tecture of  Renaissance  inspiration  was  cradled  in  Tudor 
England.  There  the  Renaissance  sought  distinctive  expression 
■  in  literature  and  poetry  alone. 

Near  two  hundred  years  separate  the  great  first-fruits  of 
the  literary  and  artistic  movement  in  Italy  from  the  full 
English  harvest  of  literary  treasure.  As  early  as  the  four- 
teenth century,  Giotto  in  painting  and  Petrarch  in  poetry 
preached  in  Northern  Italy  the  new  doctrine  of  the  Re- 
naissance, and  inaugurated  in  their  native  country  a  humanist 
enthusiasm,  which  maintained  its  energy  in  the  twin  paths  of 
art  and  letters  till  the  sixteenth  century  closed.  The  opening 
scenes  of  the  Italian  Renaissance  in  the  fourteenth  century 
gave  earnest  of  a  glorious  perfection,  and  the  sixteenth 
century,  to  which  the  last  episodes  of  the  Itahan  movement 
belong,  is  still  familiarly  known  as  '  the  golden  age '  of 
Italian  literature  as  well  as  of  Italian  art.  Through  three 
centuries  humanism  animated  the  whole  range  of  artistic 
effort  in  Italy.  During  the  first  quarter  of  the  sixteenth 
century  new  paths  of  glory  were  conquered  by  Ariosto  in 
Italian  poetry,  by  Machiavelli  and  Guicciardini  in  Italian 
prose,  by  Raphael,  Correggio,  and  Titian  in  Italian  painting : 


THE  RENAISSANCE  IN  ITALY  AND  FRANCE     5 

a  generation  later  Italian  art  and  letters  acknowledged  the 
sovereignty  of  Michelangelo,  and  Michelangelo's  immediate 
successors  on  the  thrones  of  his  country's  poetry  and  art 
were  of  the  calibre  of  Guarini  and  Tasso,  of  Tintoretto  and 
Paolo  Veronese.  The  latest  of  the  three  centuries  in  the 
history  of  the  Italian  Renaissance  was  the  era  of  Machiavelli 
and  Tasso,  no  less  than  of  Michelangelo  and  Tintoretto.  The 
Renaissance  in  Italy  shows  a  tenacity  and  an  enduring  breadth 
and  brilliance  which  have  no  precise  parallel  elsewhere.  It 
came  into  being  earlier,  and  lived  longer  and  in  more  versa- 
tile strength  than  in  any  other  country  of  Europe. 

The  French  Renaissance  is  far  younger  than  the  Italian 
movement ;  the  scope  of  its  triumph  was  narrower  ;  its  career 
was  briefer.  But  the  French  Renaissance  was  of  older 
standing  than  the  English  ;  it  ranged  over  wider  fields  of  art ; 
its  history  is  longer ;  it  ran  a  more  continuous  and  less  fitful 
course ;  it  sprang  into  active  life  in  the  early  years  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  and  only  lost  its  energy  in  the  latest 
years.  Though  the  zenith  of  Renaissance  inspiration  was 
reached  by  French  poetry  in  the  work  of  Ronsard  during 
the  sixth  decade,  the  spirit  glowed  in  Ronsard's  senior, 
Rabelais,  three  decades  earlier,  and  in  his  junior,  Montaigne, 
three  decades  later.  Meanwhile  the  French  Renaissance 
yielded  rich  stores  of  art  as  well  as  literature.  Places  among 
the  masterpieces  of  the  world  have  been  accorded  portraits 
from  the  easels  of  the  Clouets ;  the  French  sculptors  Pilon 
and  Goujon  rank  with  the  heroes  of  Italy. 

In  both  artistic  and  literary  branches  of  aesthetic  effort 
the  French  no  less  than  the  Italian  Renaissance  won  unfading 
laurels  before  the  literature  which  was  the  sole  fruit  of  the 
English  Renaissance  acquired  genuine  coherence  of  form 
or  aim.  In  both  France  and  Italy  humanism  reached  its 
final  stage  of  perfection  in  art  and  letters  while  Spenser  and 
vShakespeare  were  very  young  men,  before  their  spurs  were 
fairly  won.  Ronsard  died  just  before  Shakespeare  came  of 
age.  Tasso,  though  he  was  Spenser's  senior  by  no  more 
than  eight  years,  enjoyed  a  universal  fame  long  before  the 
Faerie  Queeiie  was  sent  to  press.     The  Italian  Renaissance 


6       FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

and    the   French    Renaissance  put  forth  their  finest  flowers 
before  the  Elizabethan  era  was  well  in  leaf 

At  the  outset  there  was  promise  in  England  of  a  different 
issue.  At  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  and  the  beginning  of  the 
sixteenth  century  England  saw  bright  flashes  of  humanist 
development.  The  scholarship  and  speculation  of  Thomas 
Linacre  and  of  Sir  Thomas  More  iflumined  the  darkness  for 
a  brief  season.  At  no  long  interval  the  poets  Wyatt  and 
Surrey  brought  another  touch  of  radiance  into  the  scene. 
To  sanguine  observers  of  Henry  VIII's  reign  exploits  seemed 
at  hand  which  might  challenge  comparison  with  those  of  their 
great  European  contemporaries,  Ariosto  and  Machiavelli  in 
Italy,  Rabelais  and  Clement  Marot  in  France.  But  the 
promise  proved  delusive.  Attractive  as  were  the  first  emana- 
tions of  Tudor  humanism  and  Tudor  poetry,  they  were 
/gleams  only,  and  quickly  faded.  When  Surrey's  muse  was 
silenced,  near  half  a  century  of  darkness  or  hazy  light 
intervened  before  the  literary  flame  was  to  burn  in  England 
with  ample  or  lasting  glow. 

Only  from  the  year  j^529'  when  Spenser  and  vSir  Philip 
Sidney  first  gave  earnest  of  their  genius,  did  the  stream  of  great 
literature  flow  in  Englandcontinuously  or  with  sustained  force. 
The  impulse  grew  in  strength  for  thirty  years  and  then  decayed. 
The  flourishing  period  of  English  Renaissance  literature  was 
not  only  belated,  but  was  of  short  duration  compared  with 
that  of  F" ranee  or  Italy.  At  the  extreme  end  of  the  sixteenth 
century  the  drama  of  the  Renaissance  in  England  scaled 
through  one  generation  heights  of  which  the  movement 
alike  in  Italy  and  in  France  fell  short.  It  is  no  insularity  on 
the  part  of  the  English  critic,  there  is  no  proof  that  he  is 
'sick  of  self-love',  in  the  acknowledgement  that  the  best 
Elizabethan  drama  betrays  a  more  affluent  inspiration  and 
a  deeper  emotion  than  any  drama  of  French  or  Italian  work- 
manship. Yet  this  glorious  compensation  does  not  obscure 
the  comparatively  restricted  bounds  of  p:nglish  artistic  energy 
during  the  era,  nor  may  the  historian  overlook  the  tardiness 
of  the  English  Renaissance  in  proving  its  strength,  or  the 
brevity  of  the  period  of  its  prosperity. 


THE  RENAISSANCE  IN  ENGLAND  7 

On  the  threshold  of  our  prese.it  study  of  literary  history 
we  must  divest  ourselves  of  many  modern  prepossessions. 
Not  till  the  eighteenth  century  opened,  can  P^ngland  be  said 
to  have  marched  in  the  European  van  of  intellectual  pro- 
gress. The  supreme  work  of  vSliakespeare  and  Bacon 
belongs  for  the  most  part  to  the  seventeenth  rather  than  to 
the  sixteenth  century,  and  their  pre-eminence  gives  them 
perhaps  a  place  apart,  but  on  any  showing  they  were  the 
youngest  heirs  of  the  spirit  of  the  continental  Renaissance. 
They  were  giants  in  the  rearguard  of  the  advancing  host. 

Through    eight  decades  of  the  sixteenth   century  the  in- 
tellectual activity  of  England  lagged  behind  not  only  France 
and  Italy,  but  even  Germany  and  Spain,     From  Germany, 
Tudor  England  was  content  to  borrow  a  reformed  theology 
and  much  of  her  knowledge  of  art  and  science.     The  lessons 
that  Spain  had  more  especially  to  teach  her  seemed  for  near 
a  century  beyond  her  intellectual  or  political  grasp.     Spain's 
pioneer    colonization    of   America    implied    a    rare    mental 
alertness.     Whatever  errors  may  be  imputed  to  the  Spanish 
occupation    of    the    New    World,    the    mighty    exploit   was 
born    of   a   robust   imagination   and   an    intuitive   command 
of  the  two  complex  sciences  of  navigation  and  government. 
England  followed  the  guidance  of  vSpain  in  this  colonizing 
sphere   of  activity  with   tardiness   and   reluctance.     Richard 
Hakluyt  and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  who  preached  to  England 
in  the  epoch  of  Shakespeare's   manhood    the  duty  of  sus- 
tained  colonial   endeavour,   bear   ample   testimony   to   their 
country's  failure  to  appreciate  the  meaning  of  the  Spanish 
example.     They   are   eloquent   in    regrets    of    English    un- 
willingness  to    learn    the   lesson    that    Spain   was   teaching. 
The  French  mind  seized  the  Spanish  hint  more  quickly  than 
the  English.    Though  French  experiments  in  American  colo- 
nization and  exploration  lacked   the    steady   persistence   of 
Spain,  Frenchmen  none  the  less  made   resolute  endeavours 
to  plant  the  French  flag  in  Brazil,  in  Florida,  and  in  Canada. 
These  French  designs  compare  favourably  in  their  aims  and 
results  with  the   bold   but  ineffectual  expeditions  of  Martin 
Frobisher,    of    Sir   Humphrey  Gilbert,   and   of  Sir   Walter 


8       FRANCE  \ND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

Raleigh's  agents  in  Virginl-i.  There  is  nothing,  at  any  rate, 
in  the  colonial  history  of  Tudor  England  quite  analogous  to 
the  fruitful  achievements  of  Jacques  Cartier  or  of  his  younger 
disciple,  Samuel  Champlain,  on  the  northern  confines  of  the 
American  continent.^ 

The  backwardness  of  England  in  the  exploration  and 
settlement  of  the  newly  discovered  hemisphere  oddly  con- 
trasts with  the  forwardness  of  Spain  and  even  with  the 
relatively  modest  activity  of  France.  Such  discrepancies 
point  a  comprehensive  moral.  Through  all  but  the  very 
close  of  the  sixteenth  century,  the  English  mind  proved  less 
alert  or  less  pliant  than  the  continental  mind,  when  con- 
fronted by  the  new  conceptions  of  the  era.  In  love  of 
political  independence,  in  physical  bravery  and  endurance,  in 
mercantile  aptitude,  Tudor  England  never  feared  rivalry  with 
foreign  nations.  But  slowness  to  appreciate  nascent  ideas 
and  mistrust  of  artistic  sentiment  made  it  difficult  for  her 
during  the  epoch  of  the  Renaissance  to  keep  fully  abreast 
of  the  intellectual  culture  of  the  other  peoples  of  Western 
Europe. 

II 

England's  Intellectual  Commerce 

It  is  needless  to  repeat  the  warning  against  treating 
sixteenth-century  English  literature,  and  Elizabethan  literature 
more  especially,  as  an  isolated  growth,  as  a  plant  rooted  in 
English  soil  and  drawing  its  sustenance  from  English  earth. 
No  argument  or  evidence  can  gainsay  the  fact  that  Elizabethan, 
like  all  Tudor  literature,  was  an  organism  of  varied  fibre,  much 
of  which  was  rooted  in  foreign  mould. 

Although  the  spirit  of  the  Renaissance  came  to  fruition  in 
England  late,  intellectual  commerce  with  the  Continent  was 
active  throughout  the  era,  in  varying  degrees  of  intensity. 
Links  to  bind   England    to    the  great   confederation  of  in- 

1  Cf.  'The  Call  of  the  West'— four  articles  by  the  present  writer  in 
Scribner's  Magazine  for  1907. 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH'S  LINGUISTIC  FACULTY     9 

tellectual  Europe  were  in  existence  from  the  outset,  and,  if 
often  slender  in  texture,  were  never  incapable,  under  due 
incitement,  of  increasing  their  strength.  Through  the  eight 
decades  of  her  quiescence,  Tudor  England  was  absorbing, 
however  slackly,  foreign  sustenance ;  she  was  garnering, 
however  inertly,  foreign  stimulus  to  future  exertion. 

No  contemporary  observer  at  any  time  underrated  the  debt 
that  Tudor  England  owed  to  foreign  culture.  Queen 
Elizabeth  was  regarded  at  home  as  the  standard  type  of 
England's  intellectual  development,  and  one  of  the  many 
compliments  on  the  width  of  her  intellectual  horizon  well 
interprets  the  general  situation.  A  poetic  eulogist  con- 
gratulated her  on  being 

not  only  in  her  mother-voice 
Rich  in  oration, 

but  he  pointed  out  that  she 

with  phrases  choice 
So  on  the  sudden  can  discourse  in  Greek, 
French,  I>atin,  Tuscan,  Dutch,  and  Spanish,  eke 
That  Rome,  Rhine,  Rhone,  Greece,  Spain,  and  Italy 
Plead  all  for  right  in  her  nativity.^ 

Here  we  have  a  characteristically  rough  and  irregular,  but  an 
almost  exhaustive,  enumeration  of  the  foreign  influences  at 
work,  not  merely  on  the  Queen,  but  on  the  best  intellects 
among  her  subjects.  All  these  six  tongues  and  literatures — 
Greek,  F"rench,  Latin,  Spanish,  Dutch  (i.e.  German),  and 
Tuscan — plead  of  right  for  recognition  in  casting  the  nativity 
of  Tudor  and,  more  especially,  of  Elizabethan  literature. 
A  doctrine  of  the  universal  brotherhood  of  literary  effort 


^  Joshua  Sylvester's  translation  of  Du  Bartas's  Secottd  Week  (4th  edit. 
1613,  p.  333).  Queen  Elizabeth's  varied  linguistic  faculty,  which  is  well 
attested  by  Ascham  {7'ke  Sclwleiiiaster,  ed.  Mayor,  p.  63),  was  noticed 
by  many  other  French  poets.  Ronsard  (Book  IV,  §  ii  infra)  together  with 
the  Huguenot  poets  Aubigne  (BookV^_i_v2r)  and  Grevin  (Book  VI,  §  iii) 
all  write  as  admiringly  on  the  subject  as  Uu  Bartas.  The  great  scholar, 
J.  J.  Scaliger,  who  visited  England  about  1590,  wrote:  'Elisabeth  Reyne 
sgavoit  plus  que  tous  les  Cirands  de  son  vivant,  &  parloit  Italien, 
Francois,  Alemand,  Latin,  Grec  &  Anglois '  {Sca/ti^eriana,  Cologne, 
i695>  P-  134). 


V 


lo      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

was  vaguely  formulated  by  the  literary  profession  in  Eliza- 
bethan England,  The  cosmopolitan  tendencies  of  the 
Elizabethan  world  of  letters  were  recognized  by  critics  of 
the  day  with  perfect  equanimity.  The  poet,  Samuel  Daniel, 
who  was  under  a  large  debt  to  the  foreign  muses,  sought 
a  more  or  less  philosophic  interpretation  of  the  hydra-headed 
alien  force  which  vitalized  the  Shakespearean  era.  Writing 
in  1603,  Daniel  warily  argued  that  it  was 

the  proportion  [i.e.  property]  of  a  happy  pen. 
Not  to  b'  invassalVl  to  one  monarchy, 
But  dwell  with  all  the  better  world  of  men 
Whose  spirits  all  are  of  one  community. 

Culture,  according  to  Daniel,  declines  to  be  hemmed  in  by 
the  barriers  of  nationality.     On  the  contrary.  Genius 

vents  her  treasure  in  all  lands 
And  doth  a  most  secure  commercement  find.^ 

Varied  was  the  argument  which  affirmed  the  benefits  deriv- 
able from  commerce  with  foreign  literature.  Elizabethans 
of  philological  proclivities  boasted  of  the  readiness  of  their 
language  to  adapt  foreign  words  to  literary  purposes.  The 
learned  antiquary,  Richard  Carew,  attributed  to  foreign  rein- 
forcements at  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century  '  the  excellence 
of  the  English  tongue '.  '  Seeing  then  we  borrow,'  Carew 
wrote  to  his  friend  and  fellow-archaeologist  Camden,  '  (and 
that  not  shamefully)  from  the  Dutch,  the  Briton,  the  Roman, 
the  Dane,  the  French,  the  Italian,  and  Spaniard,  how  can  our 
stock  be  other  than  exceeding  plentiful  ? '  The  dangers  to  be 
apprehended  from  a  polyglot  vocabulary  were  easily  exag- 
gerated. '  It  may  be  objected  that  such  patching  maketh 
Littleton's  hotch-pot  of  our  tongue,  and  in  effect  brings  the 
same  rather  to  a  Babelish  confusion  than  any  one  entire  lan- 
guage.' -  But  the  writer  reaches  the  complacent  conclusion  of 
every  able  and  impartial  judgement  that  the  English  tongue 
owes  to  the  foreign  elements  in  its  composition  most  of  its 
significance,  ease,  copiousness,  and  melody. 

^  Daniel's  IVoiks,  ed.  Grosart,  vol.  i,  p.  287. 

"^  Camden,  Remains  Concer7ii?ig  Britain  (1870  edition),  p.  47. 


TASSO  ON  THE  ELIZABETHAN  STAGE        1 1 

Ample  evidence  is  available  of  the  zeal  with  which  l£liza- 
bethan  men  of  letters  scanned  the  achievements  of  the  literary 
heroes  of  the  European  Renaissance  for  literary  suggestion. 
A  graphic  illustration  is  worth  offering  here  of  the  active 
interest  which  the  English  public  showed,  when  the  English 
Renaissance  was  flowering,  in  the  personal  experience  of  great 
contemporary  leaders  of  continental  literature.  Much  may  be 
gauged  from  the  fact  that  the  melancholy  fortunes  of  Tasso's 
concluding  years  were,  while  he  was  yet  alive,  the  subject  of 
a  play,  which  was  several  times  performed  at  the  chief  theatre 
in  Elizabethan  London.  The  piece  called  Tasso's  Melancholy 
may  well  have  had  Ophelia's  words  for  motto : 

O  what  a  noble  mind  is  here  o'erthrown  !  .  .  . 
The  observed  of  all  observers  quite,  quite  down. 

Goethe  unconsciously  followed  in  the  Elizabethan  playwright's 
footsteps  and  proved  a  cognate  breadth  of  interest  by  penning 
a  play  on  the  same  theme.  The  text  of  the  Elizabethan  drama 
no  longer  survives,  but  there  is  an  extant  record  of  its  first 
production  by  the  theatrical  manager  Philip  Henslowe  at  the 
Rose  Theatre  in  London  on  August   ii,  1594.^       The  play 


proved  exceptionally  popular  and  profitable.  It  was  repeated 
six  times  before  the  end  of  the  year  and  at  least  four  times 
next  year.  Tasso  worked  out  his  sad  destiny  while  Shake- 
speare's genius  was  first  proving  its  strength.  On  April  2^, 
1595,  the  great  Italian  poet  died,  and  within  three  weeks — on 
May  14,  1595 — the  English  piece  of  which  he  was  the  hero 
was  acted  in  London  for  at  least  the  tenth  time.  Nor  did  its 
theatrical  life  then  cease.  Six  years  later,  early  in  i6oi,\ 
Dekker,  a  writer  of  genuine  Elizabethan  vigour,  was  em- 
p^o^ied  to  revise^  this  play  of  Tasso's  Melancholy^  and  it 
would  seem  to  have  been  revived  at  the  London  playhouse 
while  Shakespeare  was  planning  his  great  \.r3.gQdy  oi  Hajnlet. 
'  Tasso's  Robe '  and  '  Tasso's  Picture  '  long  figured  among  the  \ 
properties  of  the  Rose  Theatre.  The  stir  that  the  Italian/ 
master's  personal  tragedy  roused  in  the  sphere  of  Elizabethan 
drama  near  the  heyday  of  its  activity  points   to   only   one 

'  Henslowe's  Diary,  ed.  Greg,  vol.  i,  pp.  19-22. 


12      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

conclusion.  It  is  luminous  proof  of  the  briskness  of  the 
literary  and  intellectual  commerce  of  lilizabethan  England 
with  the  European  continent  at  the  end  of  the  sixteenth 
century. 

Ill 

The  Interpretative  Faculty  of  France 

In  estimating,  with  precision,  the  influence  that  France,  our 
sole  immediate  concern,  exerted  on  England  in  this  era  of 
intellectual  stir,  it  is  needful  to  define  the  part  that  France 
played  in  the  mighty  movement  of  the  European  Renaissance, 
and  to  apprehend  the  distinguishing  features  of  the  humanist 
development  within  the  bounds  of  her  own  territory.  It  has 
to  be  remembered  that  France  was  only  one  of  the  countries 
whose  influence  helped  to  cast  the  nativity  of  Tudor  culture. 
There  were  many  other  influences  at  work — classical  influences, 
Italian  and  Spanish  influences,  and  in  the  sphere  of  scholar- 
ship, art,  and  theology,  German  and  Flemish  influences. 
'Rome,  Rhine,  Rhone,  Greece,  Spain,  and  Italy,'  all  plead  for 
recognition. 

Yet  I  am  prepared  to  defend  the  position  that  French  culture 
has  a  bearing  on  the  development  of  Tudor  culture,  which 
neither  the  classics  nor  Italian  art  and  literature  nor  German 
art  and  literature  can  on  a  broad  survey  be  said  to  equal. 
Two  external  kinds  of  considerations  support  this  conclusion  : 
firstly,  the  political,  social,  and  geographical  relations  between 
the  two  countries,  and  secondly,  the  constitution  or  composition 
of  French  culture.  Intercourse  between  England  and  P>ance 
was  on  the  one  hand  closer  than  between  England  and  any 
other  foreign  country,  and  on  the  other  hand  France's 
idiosyncrasy  or  individuality  had  unique  qualification  for 
quickening  England's  imitative  and  assimilative  instinct,  when 
the  two  were  brought  into  conjunction. 

It  was  the  mission  of  France  to  bring  to  England  something 
more  than  the  harvest  of  her  own  soil.  Though  France  had 
not  yet  attained  the  military  and  political  ascendancy  over 
Europe  which  marked  the  era  of  Louis  XIV,  she  first  became 


\ 

CHARACTERISTICS  OF  FRENCH  CULTURl^:     13 

in  the  sixteenth  century  that  home  or  storehouse  of  cuhure 
and  ideas,  she  first  aaiuired  those  powers  of  collecting-  and 
transmitting- culture  and  ideas,  which  soon  led  Paris  to  be  styled 
the  artistic  and  intellectual  capital,  not  alone  of  France,  but 
of  Europe.  Lucidity,  clarity,  precision  of  statement,  together 
with  a  notable  measure  of  urbanity,  blitheness,  and  gaiety, 
became  commanding  characteristics  of  the  French  intellect 
during  the  sixteenth  century.  Such  traits  fitted  her  for  a 
role  of  interpreter  and  tutor  to  other  nations,  not  merely  of 
her  own  culture  and  ideas,  but  of  the  culture  and  ideas  which  she 
absorbed  from  others.  She  had,  then  and  later,  great  moments 
of  original  inspiration.  But  in  the  history  of  modern  European 
civilization  her  interpretative  faculty,  her  capacity  for  teaching 
without  preaching,  have  given  her  as  high  a  title  to  external 
fame  and  gratitude  as  any  of  her  original  contributions  to 
thought  or  art.  Her  expository  power  has  constituted  her 
for  fully  three  centuries  a  universal  court  of  taste,  an  apostolate 
of  humanism  tirbi  et  orbi\  the  world's  arbiter  elegantiartim. 
Such  ofiices  she  first  filled  with  effect  in  the  sixteenth  century, 
and  her  prentice  hand  of  civilizing  missionary  was  con- 
spicuously exercised  on  Tudor  England. 


IV 

The  Culture  of  the  French  Renaissance 

The  culture  of  the  French  Renaissance  is  like  Jacques's 
melancholy,  '  compounded  of  many  simples,  extracted  from 
many  objects.'  It  is  an  amalgam  of  Attic  grace  and  simplicity, 
of  Latin  directness,  of  Itahan  sensuousness,  but  it  owes  much 
of  its  colour  to  Gallic  alertness  and  inventiveness  of  mind,  to 
the  Gallic  spirit  of  airy  mockery.  The  term  which  is  often 
applied  to  the  main  idiosyncrasy  of  the  French  character, 
I'esprit  gattlois,  is  a  phrase  which  is  difficult  to  translate. 
It  is  often  confused  unjustly  with  humorous  obscenity.  In  its 
original  manifestations,  I' esprit  gaiilois  implies  three  enviable 
qualities :  firstly,  flexibility  of  thought ;  secondly,  gaiety,  tend- 
ing at  times  to  levity  and  coarseness,  but  readily  yielding  to 


14      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

pathetic  tenderness ;  and  thirdly,  a  melodious  ease  of  frank 
land  simple  utterance.  Its  main  power  comes  from  the  volatile 
wit,  the  good-natured  raillery,  of  the  native  temperament,  which 
is  never  readily  repressed  even  in  serious  situations.  The 
vj  {  religious  drama  of  mediaeval  France  has  its  episodes  of  banter 

Vand  laughter.  There  was  no  monotony  about  respyit  i^au/oi's  ; 
it  was  impatient  of  stagnation  ;  it  was  prone  to  favour  change 
of  form  and  hue.  Greece  and  modern  Italy  are  the  main 
sources  of  inspiration  for  the  French  Renaissance.  But  the 
native  French  soil  which  Greece  and  modern  Italy  fertilized, 
contributed  rich  sustenance  and  fascinating  iridescence  of  its 
own. 

There  was  no  lack  of  literature  in  France  of  the  fifteenth 
century.  Lyric  and  allegory,  history  and  epic,  farce  and 
religious  drama  flourished  in  France  before  the  Renaissance 
dawned.  The  school  of  Gallic  literature,  which  immediately 
preceded  the  Renaissance,  was  for  the  most  part  of  a  primitive 
allegorical,  or  chivalric  type.  It  deserves  the  attention  of 
English  students  because  the  pioneers  of  Tudor  prose  and 
poetry,  and  even  of  Tudor  drama,  eagerly  gleaned  some  direc- 
tion and  some  energy  from  the  literary  harvest  of  late  mediaeval 
France.  Tudor  pioneers  were  often  uncritical  and  unadven- 
turous  in  their  choice  of  French  models.  At  the  outset,  at 
any  rate,  they  overlooked  the  vigorous  freshness  of  Villon  or 
Comines,  preferring  the  more  torpid  industry  of  Alan  Chartier 
and  Christine  de  Pisan,  whose  fame  was  fanned  at  home  and 
abroad  by  royal  and  noble  patronage.    Better  taste  and  judge- 

v  ment  prevailed  with  a  later  generation  of  Tudor  England, 
which  worshipped  at  the  veteran  shrine  of  Froissart  and 
also  paid  tribute  to  the  contemporary  vogue  of  Clement 
iMarot.  Yet,  despite  the  fact  that  Villon  and  Comines 
lacked  recognition  across  St.  George's  Channel,  their  achieve- 
ment illustrates  the  sort  of  literary  influence  which  mediaeval 
France  was  capable  of  exerting.  \''illon  was  mainly  a  national 
poet  in  whom  racial  or  local  sentiment  was,  perhaps,  too 
strongly  developed  to  gain  easily  the  ear  of  foreign  readers. 
Much  of  his  verse  is  couched  in  a  Parisian  dialect,  and  is 
addressed  to  the  populace  of  Paris.     But  his  original  poetic 


L'ESPRIT   GAULOIS  15 

insight  enabled  him  to  interpret  the  bhtheness,  the  frank- 
ness, the  sensibihty  of  his  country's  genius.  He  described 
what  he  felt  and  saw  without  disguise  or  restraint,  and 
gave  expression  to  a  full-blooded  humanity,  frequently  in 
terms  of  a  savage  coarseness.  At  the  same  time  his  poems 
are  occasionally  woven  of  that  golden  texture  which  is  destined 
to  make  a  universal  appeal.  Delicate  metre  and  language 
clothe  genuine  pathos.  Very  touchingly  does  the  poet  hymn 
the  transience  of  fame  and  beauty.  Rarely  have  the  regrets 
of  reminiscence  been  more  artistically  phrased  than  in  Villon's 
'Ballade  des  dames  du  temps  jadis'  (Ballade  of  old-time  Ladies), 
or  in  his  'Ballade  des  seigneurs  du  temps  jadis'  (Ballade  of  old- 
time  Lords),  with  the  two  tuneful  refrains  '  Mais  ou  sont  les 
neiges  d'antan  .' '  and  '  Mais  ou  est  le  preux  Charlemaigne  .'' ' 

Something  of  the  French  breadth  of  sentiment  which  inspired 
Villon  appears  in  the  almost  contemporary  chronicle  of  Philippe 
de  Comines,  who,  although  born  on  the  Flemish  border  of 
France,  was  a  thorough  Frenchman  by  temperament  and 
domicile.  Comines's  chronicle  shows  how  the  old  French  spirit 
fostered  the  gift  of  vivacious,  fluent,  picturesque  narrative. 
Comines  combines  with  his  power  of  vivid  description  a 
piquant  irony  and  a  reflective  energy,  which  enable  him 
convincingly  to  depict  character  and  suggest  motive.  If 
Comines's  predecessor  Froissart  may  be  compared  with  Livy, 
to  Comines  may  be  assigned  some  affinity  with  Tacitus.  The 
erudition  of  the  Renaissance  ultimately  brought  French  verse 
and  prose,  under  Greek  and  Latin  influence,  to  rare  perfection 
of  point  and  ease.  Verse  and  prose  were  largely  purged  of 
turbidity,  from  which  no  mediaeval  effort  was  quite  free  ;  they 
acquired  a  more  uniform  polish.  Nevertheless,  the  faculty  of 
lively  and  piquant  narrative,  which  Comines  possessed  in 
abundance,  echoed,  like  A'illon's  poetic  blitheness  and  sensi- 
bility, a  veteran  native  note. 

The  ancient   literary  dispensation  was   not   peremptorily 
rejected  when  the  fresh  dispensation  of  the  Renaissance  first 
claimed  French  allegiance.     In  the  exuberant  genius  of  Rabe-  ^ 
lais,  the  junior  of  Villon  by  fifty  years,  the  tradition  of  A'^illon, 
in  its  unregeneracy  and  immodesty,  joins  hands  for  a  season 


i6      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

with  the  alien  learning  and  insight  of  Greece  and  Italy.  The 
poet  Clement  Marot,  a  pious  editor  of  Villon's  work,  made, 
too,  a  humbler  effort  to  reconcile  the  old  spirit  with  the  new. 
The  result  of  the  compromise  was  something  of  a  patchwork, 
which  challenged  many  canons  of  art. 

But  while  the  past  poetry  was  not  quickly  dispossessed,  it 
became  plain,  when  the  sixteenth  century  was  nearing  middle 
age,  that  the  old  Gallic  taste  and  temper  were  to  pass  for  the 
time  under  the  sway  of  a  new  poetic  inspiration,  and  were 
to  adapt  themselves  to  new  poetic  channels.  When  Rabelais 
and  Marot  laid  down  their  pens,  the  old  forces  in  the  French 
literary  arena  showed  exhaustion,  and  the  literary  activity 
of  France  ceased  to  pursue  the  ancient  ways.  The  French 
Renaissance  finally  proclaimed  drastic  innovations  and  de- 
j  creed  divorce  with  the  domestic  tradition.  Graeco- Italian 
\  influences  took  control  of  the  literary  and  poetic  stage.  In 
\the  work  of  Ronsard  and  his  friends  of  the  Pleiade,  all 
the  innovating  temper  of  the  French  Renaissance  came  by 
its  own.  Ronsard  and  his  friends  deliberately  rejected  as 
vulgar  and  barbarous  the  old  French  idiom  and  the  pre- 
scriptive usages  of  the  Gallic  spirit.  They  deliberately 
I  grafted  the  nation's  poetry  on  Greek  and  Italian  stocks. 
I  Pindar  became  a  French  hero.  Anacreon,  whom  French 
scholars  first  discovered,  and  Petrarch,  whom  they  naturalized, 
were  gods  of  the  new  idolatry.  Ronsard  and  his  allies 
counted  themselves  reformers,  and  claimed  to  be  moved 
by  a  patriotic  ardour.  Their  pretensions  were  not  ques- 
tioned. Gallic  '  saltness '  often  lent  zest  to  their  labours,  but 
the  old  crudity  was  effaced.  The  silvery  melodies  and  clas- 
sical refinement  of  the  new  lyric  outburst  won  instant 
popularity  and  caught  not  merely  their  fellow  countrymen's 
ear,  but  many  a  foreign  ear  as  well.  The  Elizabethan  poets 
admitted  that  they  fetched  a  new  elegance  from  France  ; 
'they  quaffed,  one  said,  copious  draughts  of  the  new  French 
Helicon.^  With  what  measure  of  truth  such  words  were 
spoken  will  presently  appear. 

I  *  Cf.  Ret iirtie  from  Parnassus,  1606,  Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  275  (ed.  Macray,  p.  86), 
|xnd  Joseph  Hall's  Satires,  Book  VI,  Sat.  i,  1598  (ed.  Singer,  1824,  p.  159). 


17 

V  '  \>»- 

French  Discipleship  to  Greece  and  Rome 

The  processes  at  work  in  the  evolution  of  Ronsard  and  the 
Graeco-Italian  school  of  the  French  Renaissance  were  perfectly- 
plain  and  natural.  At  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century  the 
newly-discovered  Greek  literature  gripped  the  finest  French 
intellect  with  the  hold  of  passion,  nor  was  the  grip  relaxed 
through  the  sixteenth  century.  At  the  end  of  the  fifteenth 
century  there  was  inaugurated  in  France  that  golden  age 
of  pure  scholarship  which  is  identified  with  the  names  of  j 
Budaeus,  the  Scaligers,  and  the  Etiennes  (or  Stephenses).  j 
A  dozen  others  deserve  mention  in  the  same  breath.  Greek 
professorships  were  founded  not  in  Paris  alone,  but  in 
numerous  provincial  universities.  Greek  manuscripts  were 
collected  for  Francis  I's  royal  library.  \ '>   ^^ 

French  classical  scholarship,  like  all  branches  of  modern 
culture,  owed  much  to  Italy,  It  was  in  Italy  that  almost 
all  the  great  classical  authors  were  printed  for  the  first  time. 
A  few  were  first  printed  in  Germany,  and  only  four  or  five  in 
France.  But  France  vastly  improved  on  the  Italian  type  of 
classical  scholarship.  The  Gallic  spirit  even  there  was  active, 
and  relieved  learning  of  most  of  the  burden  of  dullness. 

Although  French  original  editions  of  the  great  classics  are 
not  numerous,  France  quickly  excelled  Italy  in  its  faculty  for  ) 
textual  criticism  and  interpretation,  and  above  all  for  transla-  | 
tion  into  the  vernacular.     Anacreon,  Phaedrus,  and  Plutarch  ^ 
in  his  role  of  philosopher,  are  the  most  notable  authors  which 
France  first  rescued  from  manuscripts.  But  the  French  recen- 
sions and  annotations  of  the  text  of  authors  of  the  rank  of 
Aeschylus  and  Plato  first  brought  the  Hellenic  genius  home 
td  the  intelligence  of  modern  Europe.     The   first   effectivex 
textual  criticism  of  the  Greek  Testament  came  from  French  | 
pens. 

The  earliest  French  printers  were  scholars  of  repute,  and 
were  themselves  skilful  editors.     One  practical  service  which 


i8      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

the  French  printers  rendered  European  scholarship  is  especi- 
ally characteristic  of  the  genius  of  the  French  Renaissance ; 
they  refashioned  with  fine  taste  Greek  typography.  They  set 
the  European  pattern  of  Greek  print  for  two  hundred  years. 

As  scholars,  Tudor  England  fell  lamentably  behind  their 
French  neighbours.  According  to  Sir  Richard  Jebb,  Richard 
Bentley,  the  Greek  scholar  of  the  end  of  the  seventeenth 
and  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century,  was  the  first 
Englishman  who  can  be  classed  with  the  great  scholars  of 
the  French  Renaissance.  Sixteenth-century  English  scholars 
were  few,  and  their  steps  were  halting.  Nearly  all  their 
inspiration  came  from  the  energetic  humanism  of  France. 

A  larger  benefit  which  the  French  humanists  offered 
foreigners  as  well  as  their  own  countrymen  was  that  of 
translating  the  great  Latin  and  Greek  classics  into  vernacular 
French.  Not  the  most  erudite  professors  of  Greek  or  Latin 
disdained  this  work,  with  the  result  that  wellnigh  every  great 
Latin  or  Greek  author  was,  before  the  sixteenth  century  was 
very  old,  at  the  disposal  of  the  French  people  in  accurate  and 
idiomatic  French.  An  interesting  and  popular  critical  tract  of 
the  period  by  the  classical  scholar  and  printer  of  Lyons, 
fitienne  Dolet,  which  was  first  published  In  1540  and  was  many 
times  reprinted,  was  entitled  La  inanieye  de  bien  traduire 
^d'lme  laiigtie  en  autres  (On  the  manner  of  translating  well  from 
one  language  into  others).  Dolet  s  laws  of  translation  are 
wonderfully  modern  and  illuminating.  His  sagacious  Injunc- 
tions to  the  translator  loyally  to  study  the  Idiom  of  the 
language  from  which,  as  well  as  the  language  Into  which,  he 
translates,  may  now  sound  obvious  and  commonplace,  but  they 
are  not  obsolete.  They  were  obeyed  wuth  such  skill  by  Dolet 
and  his  contemporaries  that  one  or  two  Greek  authors — 
notably  Plutarch — became  In  the  French  translation  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  and  have  since  remained,  standard  works 
of  French  literature.  Plutarch's  Lives  also  became  in  an 
English  translation  an  Elizabethan  classic.  But  it  Is  significant 
to  remember  that  the  Elizabethan  translation  of  Plutarch 
was  rendered  not  from  the  Greek  original,  but  from  the 
contemporary  French.     That  fact,  I  think  I  shall  be  able  to 


FRENCH    STUDY   Ol^^   ROMAN   LAW  19 

show,  illustrates  a  widely-distributed   feature  of  the   literary- 
relations  between  the  two  countries  in  the  sixteenth  century. 

It  was  not  only  in  scholarship  or  in  pure  literature  that  the 
classical  studies  of  Renaissance  France  bore  luxurious  fruit. 
The  intellectual  energ-y  of  the  nation  was  seeking  a  wider 
field  of  exercise.  Roman  history  and  Roman  law  stimulated 
and  stirred  the  French  intellect  hardly  less  than  Greek 
language  and  literature. 

Though  Renaissance  study  of  Roman  law  was  begun  in 
Italy,  it  was  perfected  in  France.  Andrea  Alciati  (1492-1550), 
a  native  of  Milan,  did  his  most  notable  work  as  professor  of 
law  at  the  universities  of  Avignon  (from  1521)  and  of  Bourges 
(from  1522  onwards).  From  him  Europe  is  commonly  credited 
with  deriving  a  true  apprehension  of  the  significance  of  Roman 
law.  He  was  the  first  to  appraise  the  value  of  the  legal  system 
of  Rome,  and  he  first  brought  to  the  effort  literary  grace 
and  perspicuity.  Erasmus,  most  eminent  and  enlightened  of 
critics,  applied  to  Alciati  the  eulogy  which  Cicero  passed  on 
Q.  Mutius  Scaevola,  the  prince  of  jurists  of  ancient  Rome, 
'  iurisperitorum  eloquentissimus,'  ^  Hardly  less  distinguished 
than  Alciati  was  Jacques  de  Cujas  (1522-90),  professor  of  law 
at  Bourges,  a  Frenchman  who  evolved  modern  juridical  science 
out  of  his  investigation  into  Roman  codes.  Cujas,  the  junior 
of  Alciati  by  thirty  years,  survived  him  by  more  than  forty, 
and  the  prolonged  era  of  their  joint  labours  identified  the 
French  Renaissance  through  nearly  all  its  course  with  brilliant 
revelations  of  the  significance  of  law  in  both  principle  and 
practice.  A  third  French  professor  of  the  period,  Jean  Bodin 
(1530-96),  was  led  by  similar  classical  avenues  to  a  new  politi-\ 
cal  philosophy,  to  a  formal  theory  of  government.     Bodin's  1 

^  Alciati  was  also  famous  as  the  earliest  and  most  popular  of  modern  \ 
emblem  writers,  and  as  the  inventor  thereby  of  an   ingenious  literary  1 
relaxation,  which  was  characteristic  of  the  Renaissance  temper.     Alciati's 
Emblems  are  proverbs  in  Italian  verse  symbolically  illustrated.    They  were 
first  published  at  Milan  in  1522,  and  soon  achieved  a  very  large  circulation 
in  France,  where  a  translation  came  out  in  1536.    The  continental  editions 
of  the  sixteenth  century  are  said  to   have  numbered    more    than    fifty. 
Though  no  edition  appeared  in  England,  eighty-six  of  Alciati's  emblems  I 
are  adopted  by  Geffrey  Whitney  in  his  Choice  of  Emblems,  Leyden,  1586.    ' 
(See  reprint,  edited  by  Henry  Green,  1S66,  pp.  245-6.) 

C  2 


( 


20      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

systematic  survey  of  political  ideas  was  fresh  and  vigorous 
enough  to  give  the  cue  to  many  of  Montesquieu's  generali- 
zations. Not  until  the  extreme  end  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
when  Hooker  made  the  attempt  from  an  Anglican  Church- 
man's point  of  view,  did  any  Englishman  venture  to  treat 
politics  on  such  comprehensive  lines.  Elizabethan  students 
were  long  content  to  make  Bodin's  exposition  of  political 
theory  an  academic  text-book. 

The  political  literature  of  the  Renaissance  was,  like  almost 
all  Renaissance  effort,  born  in  Italy.  //  Principe  of  Machia- 
velli  was  the  earliest  manifesto  of  Renaissance  polity.  A 
strenuous  plea  for  autocracy,  it  long  enjoyed  a  universal 
vogue ;  in  spite  of  obvious  prejudice  and  partisanship,  its 
authority  was  not  readily  effaced.  Though  Bodin  and  the 
French  Renaissance  school  of  political  thought  ranged  beyond 
the  limits  of  Machiavelli's  masterly  defence  of  despotism, 
Machiavelli's  illiberal  argument  colours  Bodin's  theoretic  dis- 
quisitions. But  as  the  century  waned,  Machiavelli's  credit  in 
France  dwindled.  The  Huguenots  directly  challenged  the 
Machiavellian  principle  of  politics.  Concentrating  their  vision 
on  the  history  of  the  Roman  Republic,  the  Huguenot  thinkers 
elaborated  a  practical  scheme  of  constitutional  government, 
which  adapted  to  monarchical  conditions  the  republican  con- 
ception of  liberty.  Some  of  the  Huguenot  pamphleteers 
advocated  incidentally  tyrannicide  as  an  instrument  of 
political  reform,  but  the  main  importance  of  the  Huguenot 
political  doctrine  lay  in  a  frank  recognition  of  popular  right 
and  in  an  assumption  of  the  reasonableness  of  democracy. 
English  critics  of  the  policy  of  the  first  two  Stuart  kings 
,  found  serviceable  arguments  in  the  Huguenot  literature  of 
sixteenth-century  France. 

Yet  broad  and  deep  as  was  the  debt  of  the  French  Renais- 
sance to  classical  teaching,  the  classical  lesson  was  not  always 
accepted  quite  submissively.  Many  a  phase  of  classical  specu- 
lation was  exposed  to  censorious  scrutiny.  The  Gallic 
spirit  set  up  a  barrier  against  philosophical  servility,  and 
guaranteed  independence  of  thought.  Revolution  was  always 
in  process  as  well  as  restoration. 


THE   ITALIAN   ELEMENT  21 

Numerous  Frenchmen  of  the  Renaissance  in  their  philo- 
sophical, ethical,    or  logical  inquiries,  boldly  questioned  the 
classical   tradition.      Peter   Ramus»  or  Pierre   de   la   Ramee 
(1515-72),  startled  the  University  of  Paris  in  1536  with  a  thesis 
professing  to  demonstrate  that  whatever  Aristotle  had  sought  \ 
to  establish  was  wrong.     It  was  on  what  he  viewed  as  the    | 
ruins  of  Aristotelianism  that  Ramus  laid  the  foundation  of  a  | 
new  system  of  logic  which  Bacon  learned  at  Cambridge.     The 
youngest  hero  of  the  French  Renaissance,  Michel  de  Mon-\ 
taigne  (1 533-92 j,  created  a  new  type  of  literature  and  specula-  i 
tion  in  those  familiar  essays  which  Bacon  echoed  with  the  zeal  : 
of  a  disciple.     Montaigne,  who  discussed  in  the  Pagan  spirit  I 
ethics   and  religion,  declined  with  a  charming  frankness  to 
bow  the  head  to  any  authority,  ancient  or  modern.     Inno- 
vators like  Ramus  and  Montaigne  were  classicists  by  training. 
Latin  was  the  language  of  their  daily  life.     Yet  their  work 
proved  that  a  revolutionary  tendency  coloured  the  intellectual 
enfranchisement  which   issued  under  the  spell  of  the  Gallic 
spirit  from  sympathetic  study  of  Greek  and  Latin  literature. 


VI 

The  Italian  Element 

The  debt  of  the  French  Renaissance  to  modern  Italy  is 
hardly  less  conspicuous  than  its  debt  to  Greece  or  Rome. 
The  course  of  politics  quickened  those  racial  affinities  which 
made  France  an  easy  prey  to  the  sensuous  charm  of  modern 
Italian  art  and  poetry. 

It  was  a  thirty  years'  war  which  France  waged  on  Italy  that 
brought  French  culture  largely  under  Italian  sway.  The; 
military  inyasion  of  Italy  by  France  was  inaugurated  by 
the  French  king  Charles  VlII  in  1494.  Full  thirty  years  i 
later  it  reached  a  close  which  wrought  physical  disaster  on 
the  invading  host.  Yet  the  French  rout  under  the  walls  of 
Pavia  in  1525  merely  served  to  tighten  the  bonds  which 
linked  France  to  Italian  culture.  The  last  of  the  royal  French 
invaders,  Francis   I,   who   was   taken   prisoner  in   the   fatal 


>, 


22      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

contest,  was  enslaved  by  Italian  taste.  The  king  loved  the 
fanciful  titles  of  '  le  pere  des  Muses '  and  '  le  restaurateur  des 
lettres  '.  Ronsard  hailed  him  as  '  Nourrisson  de  Phebus,  des 
Muses  le  mignon  '}  The  Phoebus  who  nurtured  Francis  I 
was  of  Roman  lineage,  and  the  Muses  of  whom  he  was  the 
darling  were  denizens  of  Tuscany. 

During  Francis  I's  long  reign  (1515-47),  court  and  society  in 

France  fostered  an  extravagant  adoration  of  Italian  art  as  well 

as  of  Italian  letters.     Leonardo  da  Vinci,  the  most  catholically 

endowed  of  Italian  artists,  Andrea  del  Sarto,  one  of  the  most 

skilful    of   Italian    colourists,    and    Benvenuto    Cellini,    the 

greatest  of  Italian  artificers,  were  among  the  French  king's 

guests.      At    his    bidding   Italian   architects    converted    the 

feudal  castle  of  Fontainebleau  into  a  sumptuous  Italian  palace, 

which  became   a   paradise   of  Italian   art.      Francis  I's  son, 

Henry  II ;  his  grandsons,  Francis  II,  Henry  III,  and  Charles  IX ; 

and  their  successor,  Henry  IV,  all  vied  with  one  another  in 

embellishing  that  edifice  with  noble  ornament  of  sculpture 

/    and  metal  work,  with  parks  and  gardens,  which  enhanced  the 

.  beauty  of  Francis  I's  design,  and  strengthened  its  Italian  spirit. 

When  the  Republic  of  Florence,  the  chief  home  of  the  Italian 

Renaissance,  fell  in  1530,  and  was  finally  merged  in  the  Duchy 

of  Tuscany,  Florentine  refugees  found  no  warmer  welcome 

than  in  Paris.  Much  Italian  literature  was  penned  in  the  French 

capital  under  the  patronage  of  '  le  monarque  Fran9ois ',  and 

was  printed  at  French  presses.   The  Italian  conquest  of  French 

/  taste  was  sealed  in  1533  by  the  marriage  of  Francis  I's  son  and 

'.  successor,  Henry  II,  with  Catherine  de'  Medici.     The  Italian 

consort  of  the  French  prince  was  the  daughter  of  Lorenzo  de' 

Medici,  Duke  of  Urbino,  the  last  representative  of  the  most 

cultured  of  Florentine  families,  whose  features  Michelangelo 

has  immortalized  in  his  famous  statue  of  II  Pensieroso.     After 

■Queen  Catherine's  husband  died  in  1539,  her  three  sons  filled 

in  succession  the  French  throne,  and  during  those  thirty  years 

(1559-89),    she  found  as  Queen  Mother  full  scope  for  her 

dominating  temper.     Her  political  ambition  was  nurtured  by 

'   Ronsard,  QLuvres,  vii.  17S. 


THE   ITALIAN   INFLUENCE  23 

study  of  Machiavelli's  Pj'ince — that  stimulating  Italian  plea  for      \^^ 
despotism  which  its  author  had  dedicated  to  her  father.     But,   . 
in  spite  of  political  distraction,  she  never  ceased  to  worship 
the   muses   of    her    native   land.      The   Louvre    under    her 
sovereignty  was  illumined  by  foreign  art  and  learning.     Her 
fellow  countrymen,  Aretino  and  Tasso,  greeted  her  as  a  queen 
of  Parnassus  ;  Ronsard  and  his  comrades  saluted  her  as  an 
Italian  Pallas,  a  worthy  scion  of  the  Medicean  race  which  had 
preserved  Athens  from  oblivion.'     The  Queen  Mother's  two 
younger   sons,    Charles   IX   and    Henry  III,  were  carefully 
educated  in  the  spirit  of  the  Italian  Renaissance  under  her  \ 
direction,  and  they  kept  the  Italian  temper   of  the    French   1 
court  well  alive  till  near  the  end  of  the  century.  \ 

No  unmixed  good  issued  from  the  Italian  predominance. 
Italian  culture  cherished  classical  scholarship  and  speculation. 
The  classical  sympathies  of  France  were  reinforced  by  Italian 
example.  Italian  predilections  were  not  prejudicial  to 
Frenchmen's  enthusiasm  for  classical  study.  But  there  were 
elements  of  density  and  of  preciosity  in  the  Italian  temper 
which  tended  to  cloud  the  scholarly  vision  and  to  cloak  the 
lucidity  of  the  Greek  or  Latin.  In  the  vernacular  poetry  of 
France  Italian  influence  encroached  on  Hellenism  as  the  century 
aged.  Vicious  affectation  and  confused  pedantry  threatened 
the  well-being  of  poetic  effort,  and  checked  the  native  impulse, 
which  made  for  clearer  light. 

In  1589  the  Italianate  House  of  Valois  fell  with  the 
assassination  of  Henry  III.  The  kindred  house  of  Bourbon 
filled  the  vacant  throne  in  the  person  of  Henry  of  Navarre. 
The  new  king  owed  his  fame  to  his  chieftainship  of  the 
Huguenots.  The  versatile  culture  which  his  grandmother, 
Margaret  of  Navarre,  cherished,  coloured  his  mind,  but  the 
aesthetic  code  of  Italy  which  swayed  the  fashionable  world  of 

'  Cf.  Ronsard's  QLiivrcs,  iii.  379  (Le  Bocage  Royal)  : 

EUe,  se  souvenant  des  vertus  de  sa  race  .  .  . 

Laquelle  a  remis  sus  les  lettres  et  Ics  arts  .  .  . 

Sans  cette  noble  race  en  oubli  fust  Ath^nes. 
In    Les     Poesies    inedites    de    Catherine    de    MMicis    (Paris,     1884), 
M.   Edouard  Fremy  gives   a  good   sketch  of  Queen  Catherine's  varied 
accomplishments. 


24      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

orthodox  France  made  smaller  appeal  to  him   than   to   his 

predecessors. 

I      A  sense  of  nationality  deepened  in  France  with  the  peaceful 

\  solution  of  her  internal  strife.    Henry  of  Navarre,  who  brought 

the  century's  civil  and  religious  warfare  to  an  end,  invigorated 

the  sense  of  patriotism  and  discouraged  dependence  on  the 

I  foreigner.     The  epoch  closed  amid  cries  of  revolt  against  the 

I  French  poets'  servitude  to  Italian  conceits.     Patriotic  critics 

denounced  as  treason  the  literary  habit  of  assimilating  Italian 

forms  of  speech.     There  was  a  vigorous  attempt  to  dethrone 

Petrarch  and  Tasso,  acknowledged  masters  of  the  poetic  realm 

in  France  as  well  as  in  Italy.     But  the  raising  of  the  standard  of 

rebellion  produced  no  sudden  collapse  of  the  old  regime.    The 

Italian  tide  ebbed  slowly  in  French  literature.     It  was  flowing 

most  strongly  when  Elizabethan  literature  was  born,  and  the 

French  poetry  which  flourished  contemporaneously  with  the 

Elizabethan  was  deeply  tinged  with  Italian  hues. 

VII 

The  Diffusion  of  Renaissance  Culture  in  France 

The  culture  of  the  French  Renaissance  repays  examination 
from  many  points  of  view.  Not  merely  do  its  constituent 
elements  and  the  manner  of  their  intermingling  offer  much 
food  for  critical  study,  but  the  dissemination  or  geographical 
distribution  of  Renaissance  refinement  through  the  country 
contributed  to  its  general  effect,  and  invites  inquiry.  With 
almost  magical  celerity  the  culture  of  the  Renaissance  diffused 
itself  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  France.  The  force 
and  influence  of  the  movement  were  thereby  strengthened 
abroad  as  well  as  at  home. 

Paris  was  the  main  focus  of  light  in  the  glow  of  the  French 
Renaissance.  The  great  capital  had  rare  powers  of  attraction 
for  the  rest  of  France  and  for  the  world. ^  None  the  less  the 
country  outside  Paris  fed  the  flame  of  culture  with  a  signal 

^  Cf.  James  Howell's  Instructions  for  Forreine  Travell,  1642  (ed.  Arber, 
p.  28),  '  Paris,  that  huge  though  dirty  theatre  of  all  nations.'  Howell  is 
writing  of  Paris  as  he  knew  it  in  1618. 


FRENCH  CENTRES  OF  CULTURE     25 

efficiency.    The  provinces,  with  their  local  parliaments  and  local 
traditions,  encouraged  a  sentiment  of  local  independence  and  of 
neighbourly  rivalry,  without  seriously  imperilling  the  country's 
homogeneity.     The  political  divisions  gave  cultured  energ>^  a 
series  of  competing  rallying-points.  A  small  district  of  the  south  \ 
formed  during  most  of  the  century  the  affiliated^Jdjigdgni^of  1 
Nayarre,  and  that  iinpcrimu  in  imperio  played  a  noble  part  in  I  '^ 
the  development  of  the  new  enlightenment.     From  1527  to'' 
1549  Margaret,  Queen  Consort  of  Navarre,  Francis  I's  sister 
and  Henry  of  Navarre's  grandmother,  made  her  palace  at 
Nerac  a  nursery  of  art  and  letters,  which  was  hardly  second 
in  brilliance  to  the  Louvre  or  to  Fontainebleau.     The  court 
of  Navarre,  whose  accomplished  and  liberal-minded  queen  . 
divided  her  enthusiasm  between  light-hearted  Boccaccio  and 
austere  Calvin,  brought  into  the  sphere  of  taste  a  genuinely} 
catholic  tolerance.     Nor  did  such  a  provincial  centre  as  Neracj 
stand  alone.    France  was  honeycombed  with  citadels  of  culture,' 
which  helped  to  broaden,  fortify,  and  vivify  national  sympathy 
with  art  and  literature. 

Well  might  Marot  liken  the  cultured  eminence  of  the  town\ 
of  Lyons,  for  example,  to  Troy  or  Mount  Pelion.  Froml 
the  early  days  of  the  century  many  cities  boasted  annual 
poetic  competitions — Grands  Jours — which  were  seasons  and' 
ceremonies  of  popular  holiday.  Ronsard,  the  kingly  poet  of 
the  Renaissance,  ranked  above  all  his  many  honours  the  silver 
statuette  of  Minerv^a  which  the  city  of  Toulouse  awarded  him  in 
place  of  the  customary  sprig  of  eglantine  at  its  annual  literary 
tournament  of  Les  Jeux  Floraux '.  Nearly  three  hundred  years 
after  Ronsard,  Victor  Hugo  won  the  like  prize  at  a  subsequent 
celebration  of  the  same  festival  of  Toulouse  ;  so  inveterate  was 
the  literary  tradition  of  provincial  France,  and  so  deep  w^ere 
its  roots  planted  during  the  epoch  of  the  Renaissance.  Truth- 
fully Ronsard  apostrophized  '  toute  la  France  '  as  '  terre  pleine 
de  villes  '  and  '  d'hommes  aux  Muses  accorts  '.  With  his  gaze 
fixed  beyond  Paris  the  national  poet  may  win  pardon  for  the 
exaggeration  in  his  hymn  to  his  fatherland  {CEuvrcs,  v.  287) : 

Dedans  I'enclos  de  nos  belles  citez 
Mille  et  mille  arts  y  sont  exercitez. 


26  FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

I  The  activity  of  provincial  universities  made  twenty  towns 
Lrivals  of  Paris  in  the  promotion  of  humanist  education.  Many 
provincial  French  universities  enjoyed,  indeed,  in  specialized 
lines  of  study  a  world-wide  repute  which  Paris  failed  to  reach. 
The  religious  wars  threatened  the  prosperity  of  some  of  the 
southern  seats  of  learning.  The  course  of  study  was  inter- 
rupted, and  their  pecuniary  resources  diminished.  But 
reverses  proved  only  temporary,  and  almost  all  the  universities 
of  France  can  boast  a  record  of  sixteenth-century  achievement 
to  which  Oxford  and  Cambridge  were  during  the  period 
strangers.  The  medical  school  of  Montpellier  and  the  law 
school  of  Bourges  drew  its  students  from  all  Europe.  Of 
Lyons  and  Bordeaux,  Toulouse  and  Poitiers,  Orleans  and 
Caen,  a  like  story  can  be  told.  Provincial  professors  often 
held  the  ear  of  the  civilized  world. 

No  less  worthy  of  commemoration  is  the  fact  that  in  some 
I  forty  French  provincial  towns  printing  presses  were  at  work 
without  intermission  from  the  earliest  years  of  the  sixteenth 
'  century,  and  were  in  constant  process  of  multiplication  in  the 
hundred  years  that  followed.     Scholars  and  men  of  letters 
invariably  directed  these  typographic  enterprises.      vSuch  a 
phase  of  the  intellectual  history  of  France  strangely  contrasts 
w^ith  the  circumstance  that  in  England    London    alone   can 
claim  an  uninterrupted  succession  of  printers  during  the  same 
era.     Neither   Oxford   nor  Cambridge,   England's  only  two 
I  /         \  universities  at  the  time,  saw  a  printing  press  permanently 
^  established  within  its  boundaries  till  the  eighth  decade  of  the 

sixteenth  century.  Nor  is  it  irrelevant  to  notice  that  itinerant 
sellers  of  printed  leaflets,  mainly  popular  songs  or  satires,  made 
their  first  appearance  in  France  at  the  end  of  the  fifteenth 
century.  '  Les  bisouarts,'  as  these  ballad-mongers  and  pedlars 
in  printed  wares  were  called,  are  of  older  standing  in  France 
than  in  any  other  country  of  Europe.  Thus  few  French 
towns  through  the  sixteenth  century  lacked  their  coteries  of 
humanists,  their  poetic  schools,  their  learned  presses,  or  their 
colporteurs.  There  is  nothing  in  the  annals  of  the  English 
Renaissance  which  can  compare  with  this  diffusion  of 
intellectual  energy  and  ambition. 


THE    REFORM   OF   RELIGION  2^ 

The  roots  of  Renaissance  culture  were  planted  deep  in 
France  and  fertilized  all  the  land.  Therein  probably  lies  the 
key  to  the  mystery  why  the  progress  of  the  French  Renais- 
sance  was  neither  perceptibly  retarded  nor  prejudiced  by  the 
rapid  growth  in  France  of  the  reformed  religious  doctrine  or 
by  the  desperate  and  absorbing  struggle  for  supremacy  which 
was  long  waged  between  it  and  the  old  faith.  The  problem 
is  puzzling.  The  tenacity  of  the  Renaissance  spirit  which  came 
of  the  dissemination  of  the  movement  through  France  may 
suggest  a  solution.  The  greatest  Frenchman  of  the  century, 
Calvin,  invented  an  austere  formula,  which  denied  salvation  to 
intellectual  or  artistic  enthusiasm.  Calvin's  disciples  in  foreign 
lands  anathematized  profane  art  and  letters  unreservedly. 
Calvin  himself,  a  humanist  by  education,  liberally  qualified  in 
practice  his  philistine  creed,  even  after  his  migration  to  Geneva. 
Huguenots,  who  remained  in  France,  reconciled  acceptance  of 
his  dogma  with  the  pursuit  of  intellectual  and  artistic  ideals. 

Much  will  be  said  of  the  contribution  of  the  Huguenots 
to  French  literature  at  a  later  stage.  Here  I  will  only  point 
out  that  humanism  and  the  Reformed  religion  on  French  soil 
remained,  in  spite  of  the  Calvinist  s  dismal  inhibition,  for  the 
most  part  loyal  allies.  At  the  outset  almost  every  humanist 
favoured  the  Reformed  faith.  At  any  rate,  the  humanist  shared 
with  the  Reformer  a  common  suspicion  of  mediaeval  convention. 
The  cultured  court  of  Navarre  was  wholly  identified  with  the 
religious  Reformation.  At  the  outset  humanism  found  no  such 
warm  welcome  in  the  orthodox  circles  of  Paris  as  among 
the  French  Reformers.  The  Sorbonne  in  early  days  detected 
in  the  new  Greek  scholarship  a  menace  of  orthodoxy. 
But  the  anti-humanist  prejudice  soon  decayed  among  French 
lovers  of  ancient  dogma,  and  the  progress  of  humanism 
enjoyed  the  sanction  of  Roman  Cathohcism.  Both  French 
Protestant  and  French  Catholic  found  indeed  a  practicable 
way  of  reconciling  humanism  with  their  religious  convictions. 
Despite  the  patent  fact  that  humanist  principles  of  intellectual 
freedom  were  inimical  to  the  rule  alike  of  Rome  and  Geneva, 
neither  religious  party  in  France  could  resist  the  humanist 
fascination.      Followers   of  both  creeds   found   a    means  of 


J 


28      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

accommodating  their  conceptions  of  religious  truth  with 
humanist  ambitions.  When  civil  war  broke  out  between  French 
Catholics  and  Huguenots,  humanism  continued  to  flourish  in 

•  both  camps.     If  Ronsard  and  the  leaders  of  the  Pleiade  were 
;    Catholic  laymen  loyal  enough  to  the  faith  to  fill  abbacies 
}    and  other  ecclesiastical  benefices, — Palissy  the  potter,  Goujon 
the  sculptor,  Goudimel  the  musician,  R.amus  the  logician,  the 
!    Etiennes  the  scholar- printers,  Scaliger  the  Greek  critic,  were  all 
frank  in  their  avowal  of  Huguenot  or  Reformation  sympathies. 
Calvin,  the  high-priest  of  the  French  Reformation,  for  all 
his  own  and  his  followers'  perverse  professions  to  the  contrary, 
bore,  to  the  last,  traces  of  his  humanist  training  and  of  his  intel- 
lectual affinity  with  humanism.     He  rendered  French  human- 

I  ism  the  immense  service  of  first  investing  French  prose  with 
a   definitely  logical   precision.      Nor   did  Calvin's  ingrained 

■.  sense  of  scholarship  stop  there.  Under  his  auspices,  Henri 
Etienne  was   suffered   to  pursue  at  Geneva  those   scholarly 

;  studies  which  conspicuously  dignified  the  humanist  cause, 
while  there  was  devised  in  Geneva  at  Calvin's  suggestion 
a  system  of  education  which  owed  its  triumph  to  its  humanist 

'  leaven.  No  fact  bears  more  graphic  testimony  to  the  strength 
of  the  impression  which  Renaissance  sentiment  made  on  the 

.  French  mind,  and  no  fact  is  of  greater  significance  in  the  study 
of  French  influence  on  Elizabethan  literature,  than  this  liberal 

I  identification  of  French  humanism  with  French  Protestantism. 
The  pervasive  influence  of  French  humanism  penetrated  the 
dense  walls  of  Calvin's  theocratic  state.     French  humanism 

!  derived  a  hallowing  grace  in  the  sight  of  English  puritans 
from  the  sanction  of  the  French  Reformers. 

A  kindred  inference  may  be  drawn  from  the  respect  for 
literature  which  the  French  Renaissance  fostered  among 
wealthy  men  of  a  middle  station  in  life.  Humanism  moulded 
the  lives  and  immortalized  the  names  of  many  Frenchmen 
who  made  no  bid  for  the  professional  credit  of  authorship 
and  whose  activities  were  largely  absorbed  by  the  practical 
pursuit  of  non-literary  vocations. 

Jean  Grolier  and  Jacques  Auguste  De  Thou  are  still  re- 
garded  through    the   civilized   world   as   emperors   of  taste 


GROLIER  AND   DE   THOU  29 

among  lovers  of  books,  and  their  careers  help  to  indicate  the 
alluring  versatility  of  the  culture  of  the  French  Renaissance. 
Book-collecting  was  the  pursuit  through  which  Grolier  and 
De  Thou  reached  their  enviable  eminence  in  the  annals  of 
French  civilization.  They  are  now  perhaps  best  remembered 
by  the  artistic  beauty  of  the  bookbinding,  which  distinguished 
their  private  libraries.  But  both  men  were  amateur  critics  of 
literature  and  admitted  no  volumes  to  their  shelves  that 
lacked  intrinsic  literary  interest.  Their  ambitions  were  many- 
sided.  The  elder  of  the  two,  Grolier,  a  friend  of  Francis  I, 
spent  much  time  as  a  diplomatic  agent  in  Rome  and  other  cities 
of  Italy.  It  was  in  Italy  that  he  laid  the  foundations  of  his 
great  collection.  The  younger  of  the  two,  De  Thou,  was  a 
lawyer  and  the  president  of  the  Paris  Parlement.  A  history 
of  his  own  time,  from  his  pen,  is  a  sagacious  contribution 
to  historical  and  autobiographical  literature,  but  he  belongs 
professionally  to  men  of  affairs  and  not  to  men  of  letters. 
These  two  standard-bearers  of  culture  in  the  citizen  army 
of  the  Renaissance  were  not,  strictly  speaking,  contem- 
poraries. Grolier  was  born  in  1479  ^^^  ^i^*^  ^^  ^S^Si  when 
he  was  in  his  eighty-sixth  year.  De  Thou  was  born  in 
1553,  and  lived  on  till  161 7.  Their  two  lives  cov^er  a  con- 
secutive period  of  one  hundred  and  thirty-eight  years,  and 
are  conterminous  with  the  course  of  the  French  Renaissance 
wellnigh  from  start  to  finish.  From  the  opening  to  the 
closing  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  humanist  spirit  of  the 
Renaissance  continuously  commended  itself  through  its  com- 
prehensiveness of  aim  to  legal,  oflScial,  and  mercantile  society 
of  France  no  less  than  to  royalty,  nobility,  and  academic  or 
professedly  literary  circles. 

VIII 

Tudor  Politics  :  the  Loss  of  Calais 

In  the  comparative  study  of  the  literature  of  two  countries 
it  is  especially  necessary  to  take  due  note  of  the  sort  of 
intercourse,  political  and  social,  which  was  carried  on  be- 
tween the  peoples,  before  the  attempt  be  made  to  measure  the 


30      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

literary  indebtedness  of  the  one  to  the  other.  Literary  ideas, 
poetic  ideas,  often  circulate  through  the  world  in  so  mysteri- 
ously detached  and  isolated  away  that,  when  a  definite  process 
of  transference  is  alleged,  it  is  prudent  to  ascertain  whether  or 
no  the  hard  material  fact  of  historical  intercommunications 
will  support  the  allegation  of  borrowing.  Certain  historical 
conditions  must  accompany  transference  of  literary  example 
and  suggestion.  Avowed  translation  stands  on  an  obvious 
footing  of  its  own.  No  miscalculation  of  cause  and  effect  is 
possible  there.  But  imitation,  adaptation,  assimilation  of 
suggestion,  all  of  which  mould  literary  composition,  are  more 
stealthy  and  more  subtly  penetrating  agents  than  frankly 
direct  translation.  They  are  factors  which  call  for  circum- 
spect handling.  It  is  not  only  avowed  translation  from  the 
French  which  in  my  belief  largely  fashioned  Tudor  litera- 
ture, but  adaptation,  imitation,  and  assimilation  of  suggestion 
as  well.  Agents  so  insidious  and  elusive  cannot  be  confi- 
dently analysed  until  we  apprehend  the  political  and  social 
atmospheres  which  envelop  their  working. 

The  political  and  diplomatic  relations  of  France  and 
Tudor  England  are  pertinent  topics  of  preliminary  study. 
Through  the  middle  ages  England  and  France  had  waged 
almost  constant  battle.  The  conclusion  of  the  loo  years' 
war  in  1453  ^^  ^^^  marked  by  much  cordiality  between  the 
peoples.  Yet  even  then  something  might  have  been  said  for 
Pope's  epigram,  which  was  suggested  long  afterwards  by  the 
dependence  of  England  on  French  taste  in  Charles  II's  reign  : 

M^     > '       J^^    W,     We  conquered  France,  but  felt  our  captive's  charms,^ 
"•"     V^        Her  arts  victorious  triumphed  o'er  our  arms. 

In  the  course  of  the  strife  of  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth 
centuries  England  had  claimed  the  whole  and  occupied  much 
of  French  territory.  The  only  French  land  which  she  held 
at  the  peace  of  1453  ^^'^^  Calais  and  the  adjoining  Marches. 
This  strip  of  France  remained  an  English  possession  through 
/the  first  eight-and-fifty  years  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
For  two  hundred  and  eleven  years  Calais  was  a  material 
and   substantial   link    between   the    two   countries.      It   was 


fr-^ 


x/,/ 


THE   BALANCE   OF   POWl^LR  31 

a  stronghold  of  English  commerce,  and  a  military  fortress 
which  was  reckoned  an  impregnable  protection  of  the  English 
coast  from  invasion  and  a  valuable  starting-point  for  her  own 
foreign  aggressions.  To  it  the  city  of  Boulogne  was  tem- 
porarily added  for  nine  middle  years  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury. For  a  season  Tudor  England  fervently  hugged  the  old 
national  ambition  of  becoming  a  continental  power.  Tudor 
England  was  reluctant  to  acknowledge  political  advantage  in 
her  natural  title  to  insularity. 

Political  or  diplomatic  isolation  was  never  indeed  deemed 
either  practicable  or  quite  reputable  by  English  statesmanship, 
and  the  changed  aims  and  conceptions  of  international  policy 
which  gained  strength  through  Europe  in  the  sixteenth  century 
shortened  the  dividing  lines  between  England  and  the  conti- 
nent. During  the  reign  of  Henry  VII  new  diplomatic  theories 
of  the  balance  of  power  were  inaugurated  in  Europe,  and 
France  and  England,  despite  preliminary  threatenings  of  war- 
fare, were,  through  the  early  years  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
brought  into  alliance,  for  the  first  of  many  times,  against 
a  common  rival,  the  Emperor.  The  diplomatic  turnings  of  the 
political  wheel,  which  issued  in  the  protracted  duel  between 
Elizabethan  England  and  Spain,  fostered  a  political  under- 
standing between  France  and  England  during  a  great  part  of 
Henry  VIIFs  reign  and  during  nearly  the  whole  of  Queen 
Elizabeth's  reign.  Henry  VIII  frankly  acknowledged  the 
principle  of  the  balance  of  power  when  he  devised,  according 
to  popular  tradition,  his  bold  motto,  ciU  adhaereo  praeest, 
— '  the  party  to  which  I  adhere  getteth  the  upper  hand.' 
There  was  a  growing  sentiment  throughout  the  century  that 
England  was  politically  bound  to  the  continent  by  a  loose 
federal  tie.  An  Elizabethan  observer  remarked,  '  France  and  1 
Spain  are,  as  it  were,  the  scales  in  the  balance  of  Europe, 
and  England  the  tongue  or  holder  of  the  balance.'^  The' 
English  '  tongue '  habitually  inclined  to  the  French  scale 
rather  than  to  the  Spanish.  ' 

Such  breaches  of  the  peace   as  interrupted  the   flow   of 

^  Camden's  Annals,  edit.  1688,  p.  223. 


* 


32      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

diplomatic  cordiality  between  France   and  Tudor   England 

quickly    led,   like    lovers'    quarrels,   to    new   assurances   of 

political  affection.     When  Henry  VIH  ascended  the  throne 

there  was  a  general  belief  that  an  era  of  peace  was  securely 

installed.     The  millennium  was  confidently  anticipated  at  no 

distant   date.     But   the  omens  proved  deceitful,  and  a  new 

Anglo-French  war  belied  peaceful  anticipations.      The  brief 

struggle  was  not,  however,  reopened  for  some  thirty  years, 

and  a  marked  avowal  of  friendliness  filled  that  pacific  interval. 

From   1 5 13  to   1543  the  diplomatic  atmosphere  powerfully 

encouraged   the   passage   of  French   culture   into   England. 

/  A  notable  event  opened  the  auspicious  period.    The  marriage 

of  the  French  king  Louis  XII  to  Henry  VIII's  sister,  Mary, 

I  made  the  French  court,  for  the  short  season  that  the  monarch 

/  survived  his  marriage,  a  rendezvous  of  English  nobility  and 

I  gentry.      The    English    princess's    chamberlain    was    Lord 

;  Berners,  who  proved  his  French  sympathies  by  translating 

Froissart.     Palsgrave^  the    author    of    the    first   exhaustive 

French  -  English    grammar,    was   her    chaplain.      Moreover, 

among  the  new  French  queen's  personal  attendants  was  Anne_ 

Boleyn,  who  prolonged  her  stay  in  the   French  Palace  for 

seven  years,  and  subsequently,  as  Henry  VIII's  second  wife, 

infected  the  English  court  with  markedly  French  predilections. 

IAnne  Boleyn,  who  was  Queen  Elizabeth's  mother,  ranks  high 
^mong  English  apostles  of  French  culture. 

1  Meanwhile,  the  splendid  meeting  of  Francis  I,  that  mag- 
nifico  of  the  Renaissance,  with  the  English  king  near  Calais, 
on  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold  in  152 1,  worthily  inaugu- 
rated Henry  VIII's  loyal  discipleship  to  the  French  king  in 
matters  of  taste.  Henry  wrote  French  verse  on  the  rather 
f  limping  model  which  was  set  by  his  French  brother.  With 
his  eyes  fixed  on  the  recent  building  of  Fontainebleau,  he 
superintended  the  erection  of  his  gorgeous  palace  of  Nonsuch 

inear  Cheam  in  Surrey,  and  like  the  French  king,  he  brought 
architects  and  artificers  from  Italy.    Henry  VIII's  endowment 
of  regius  professors  in  Greek,  Latin,  and  Hebrew  at  both  Cam- 
y  bridge  and  Oxford  in  1540  imitated  in  spirit  and  closely  fol- 
'  lowed  in  point  of  timeT^ncis  I's  establishment  of  like  chairs 


BOULOGNE  AND  CALAIS  33 

in  his  new  foundation  of  the  College  de  France  in  1530. 
Henry  VIII  sent  his  natural  son,  the  Earl  of  Richmond,  to 
Francis's  court  to  share  the  education  of  the  French  king's  sons, 
and  the  l^nglish  youth's  tutor  and  companion  was  that  Earl 
of  Surrey  who,  with  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt,  inaugurated  Renais- 
sance poetry  in  England.  The  trend  of  diplomacy  encouraged 
Henry  VIII  and  his  French  court  to  accept  French  guidance 
in  matters  of  culture. 

Towards  the  end  of  Henry  VlII's  reign  the  ancient  military! 
strife  between  the  two  countries  was  resumed.     Diplomatic 
pressure  brought  the  English  king  into  a  fresh  alliance  with 
the    Emperor,    and    France    fomented    Scottish    enmity    of 
England.     The  main  result  for  the  time  was  an  extension  ot\ 
English  hold  on  French  soil,     France  surrendered  Boulogne, ) 
and  for  seven  years  the  two  seaports  of  Boulogne  and  Calais 
were  both  under  English  dominion.    But  the  conquest  was  not 
maintained.    France  chafed  under  the  indignity  and  recovered 
Boulogne   of   Henry  VIIFs  son  and   successor,  Edward  VI.     1 
Within    another    eight  years,  at    the  close  of  the  brief  sue- 1 
ceeding  reign  of  Henry  VIII's  eldest  daughter  Mary,  France/    1 1^' 
and  England  were  at  war  for  a  third  time  in  the  century.! 
The  short  campaign  robbed  England  of  Calais  for  ever.     In  J 
1558,  for  the  first  time  for  two  hundred  years,  England  was/ 
deprived  of  all  footing  on  the  European  continent.  _j 

The  unexpected  humiliation  was  a  source  of  deep  grief  to 
the  English  people,  and  overwhelmed  the  English  sovereign, 
Que^n^lary,  with  a  fatal  melancholy.  The^English  crown, 
she  sald^  had  lost  its^brightesLJewel.  But  the  heavy  cloud 
had  for  England  a  silver  lining.  Although  Ehzabethan 
diplomacy  long  nursed  the  delusive  hope  that  the  lost  de- 
pendency might  be  restored  to  England,  the  transference  of 
the  territory  to  France  was  in  the  interest  of  harmony.  It 
cancelled  a  French  grievance  and  removed  an  old  source  of 
international  discord. 

The  capture  of  Calais  stirred  the  French  muse,  and  the 
poetic  celebrations  of  the  event  deserve  a  passing  notice.  It 
is  the  only  military  episode  involving  French  and  English 
interests  jointly,  which  has  left  much  impression  on    French 

LEE  D 


34      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

poetry  of  the  era,  and  the  chastened  note  was  of  happy- 
augury.  The  English  defeat  evoked  from  French  poets  a 
patriotic  demonstration  whose  tone  shows  sober  complacency 
and  little  vindictive  vaunting.  The  most  thoughtful  of  French 
poets  of  the  age,  Joachim  Du  Bellay,  whose  sentiment  towards 
England  was  less  charitable  than  that  of  his  colleagues, 
went  no  further  in  his  Hynine  au  roy  stir  la  prinse  de  Calais 
than  an  assurance  that  the  body  of  France,  long  mutilated  by 
'  le  furieux  Anglois ',  was  now  made  whole.^  A  popular 
French  versifier  of  the  Renaissance  school,  Olivier  de 
Magny,  gave,  in  an  ode,  gentler  expression  of  the  patriotic 
elation  which  '  la  prise  de  Calais '  excited  in  France.  The 
good  news  seemed  to  the  poet  almost  too  good  to  be 
true: 

Ce  Calais  inexpugnable, 
Ce  vieil  rampart  des  Angloys, 
Qu'on  disoit  tant  imprenable, 
Est-il  pris  a  ceste  fois  ? 

Through  forty-six  such  stanzas  the  Frenchman  modestly  ex- 
patiated on  the  glorious  miracle.^  French  humanism  of  the 
strictest  classical  type  shared  the  general  jubilation,  and 
Adrian  Turnebus,  the  eminent  Greek  professor  at  Paris, 
voiced  the  national  satisfaction  at  this  dismissal  of  England 
from  French  soil  in  a  voluble,  but  temperate,  Panegyricus 
de  Calisio  capto : 

Nunc  naufragus  Anglus 
Electusque  miserque  suae  est  illisus  arenae.^ 

The  event  left  clearer  trace  on  the  popular  chanson,  and  even 
on  French  drama.  At  least  six  popular  songs  on  the  triumph 
of  France  and  sorrow  of  England  were  hawked  about  Paris 
and  the  provinces. 

Calais,  ville  imprenable, 

Recognois  ton  seigneur, 

^  Du  Bellay,  CEuvres,  1597,  ff.  170  et  seq. 

^  De  Magny,  Odes,  1876,  ii.  p.  24. 

^  QxvX^x,  Delitiae  C.  Poetarum  Gallorwn  (1619),  pars  iii,  1014.  There 
was  another  Latin  poem  by  a  Frenchman,  Guillaume  Paradin,  which  bore 
the  title  :  '  De  Motibus  Galliae  et  expugnato  receptoque  Itio  Caletoruni, 
Anno  MD.LVlil.'    Leyden,  1558,  4to. 


FRENCH  POETS  ON  CALAIS        35 

was    chanted    in   street   and   lane.^      A    morality    play,   La 
Repyise  de  Calais^  mainly  consisting  of  a  placid  conversation  ' 
between  an  Englishman  and  a  Frenchman,  was  popular  on 
the  Paris  stage.     There  the  Frenchman  piously  assigns  the 
national  victory  to  God : 

De  ceste  victoire 

Or  doncques  la  gloire 

Fault  a  Dieu  donner. 
Qui  Calais  nous  donne. 
C'est  I'antique  bourne, 

Pour  France  bourner.^ 

In  England  the  humiliation  went  unsung.  A  ballad  in 
defence  of  Lord  Wentworth,  the  English  commander  who 
was  put  on  his  trial  for  the  loss  of  the  French  town,  is  the 
sole  poetic  record  in  English  of  the  disaster,  and  that  unique 
declaration  is  no  longer  extant/* 

The  crisis  of  Calais  left  no  lasting  resentment  on  either 
English  or  French  minds,  in  spite  of  the  passing  thrill  in 
French  poetry.  None  of  the  subtler  ties  of  cultured  senti- 
ment or  diplomatic  interest  which  bound  England  to  her 
neighbour  were  effectively  loosened  by  the  shock.  The 
French  poets  were  content  with  the  victory  and  cherished 
no  animosity  against  the  vanquished.  Near  the  beginning  of 
Queen  Elizabeth's  reign  the  English  queen  sent  an  army  into 
France  to  support  a  domestic  revolt  of  French  Protestants 
against  the  established  government.  But  this  somewhat 
hesitating  act  of  war  was  followed  immediately  by  '  an  , 
honourable  and  joyful  peace  betwixt  the  queen's  majesty  and  / 
the  French  king,  their  realms  dominions  and  subjects  '.  The 
treaty  was  signed  at  Troyes  on  April  12,  1564,  eleven  days 
before  Shakespeare's  birth,  and  on  his  birthday  it  was  pro- 
claimed in  P" ranee  amid  general  rejoicings.     Throughout  the/ 

*  Le  Roux  de  Lincy,  Reaceil  ties  Chants  Hisioriqiies  Fran^ais  depuis 
le  XIP  jiisqu^au  XVII  1^  siecle,  ii.  211.  M.  de  Lincy  cites  a  Parisian 
publication  of  1559,  Recueil  des  plus  belles  Chansons  de  ce  temps  mis  en 
trois  parties,  for  the  chief  chansons  on  the  capture  of  Calais. 

'■'  L.  Petit  de  Julleville,  La  Comedie  et  les  ma'urs  en  France  an  may  en 
age.    Paris,  1886,  p.  183. 

*  A  ballad  called  The  Piirgacion  of .  .  .  Lord  Wentworth  was  licensed 
for  publication  in  April,  1559.     See  Arber's  Registers,  i.  loi. 

D  2 


J 


36      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

dramatist's  lifetime  the  political  relations  of  England  and 
France  were  mainly  governed  by  this  convention.     In  June, 

1  1564,  splendid  fetes  took  place  at  Lyons,  when  the  French 

king,  Charles  IX,  received  the  Order  of  the  Garter  from  the 

English   queen's   ambassadors.      French    poets   greeted    the 

union  of  French  and  English  hearts.     Within  six  years  of  the 

! English  loss  of  Calais  the  poetic  leader  of  the  French  Renais- 

j'sance,  Ronsard,  was  vowing  to  Sir  William  Cecil,  the  prime 

(minister  of  England,  that  the  heavenly  powers  had  long 
Wnce  promised  to 

.  .  .  joindre  un  jour  par  fidelle  alliance 
Vostre  Angleterre  avecques  nostre  France.^ 


IX 

The  Elizabethan  Political  Links 

As  soon  as  England's  last  territorial  link  with  France 
was  broken,  there  were  framed  fresh  political  attachments 
which  notably  facilitated  the  exertion  on  England  of  French 
intellectual  influence.  Religious  sympathy  combined  with 
official  diplomacy  to  forge  new  political  bonds.  The  re- 
lligious  reformers  in  France  towards  the  end  of  Francis  Is 
j  reign  became  the  organized  community  of  Huguenots  ;  the 
French  government  endeavoured  to  suppress  the  Protestant 
organization  by  brute  force,  and  the  quarrel  issued  in  civil 
war.  The  French  kings  and  their  advisers  justly  per- 
ceived in  the  Huguenot  doctrine  a  menace  not  only  to 
established  religion,  but  to  established  political  principles, 
and  more  especially  to  the  pretensions  of  monarchical  abso- 
I  lutism.  The  P^nglish  Lutherans  from  the  first  welcomed  the 
spread  of  their  faith  in  France.  English  Protestants  claimed 
French  Protestants  as  brothers  in  the  divine  spirit.  The  perse- 
cution of  the  Huguenots  greatly  stimulated  English  sympathy 
with   their    French    neighbours.     The   cry   of  liberty   never 

^  Ronsard,  GLuvres,  iii.  395  (le  Bocage  Royal) ;  cf.  Paul  Laumonier's 
Ronsard,  Poete  Lyrique,  1909,  pp.  214-15. 


FRENCH  REFUGEES  IN  ENGLAND  37 

failed  to  awaken  some  echo  in  English  hearts,  luiglish  Pro- 
testants came  either  tacitly  or  openly  to  applaud  the  political 
sentiment  of  the  Huguenots  as  well  as  their  spiritual  dogma. 

When  Edward  VI's  reign  made  England  a  distinctively  \ 
Protestant  country,  the  l^nglish  people  eagerly  acknow- ' 
ledged  a  new  fellow  feeling  with  an  energetic  and  alert- 
minded  section  of  the  P'rench  people.  Englishmen  eagerly 
offered  hospitality  to  French  refugees  from  Catholic 
tyranny.  Early  in  Edward  VPs  reign  the  door  of  England 
was  opened  to  French  Huguenots,  and  save  for  the  short 
interval  of  Queen  Mary's  rule,  it  was  not  closed  for  the  rest 
of  the  century.  Persecuted  Protestants  from  the  Low  Coun- 
tries, from  Italy,  and  even  from  Spain,  likewise  sought  an 
asylum  in  Elizabethan  England.  Plemings  who  spoke  both 
French  and  Flemish  were  perhaps  more  numerous  than 
natives  of  France  or  than  Flemings  who  spoke  both  German 
and  Flemish.  Italians  and  Spaniards  of  the  reformed  faith 
were  fewer.  But  the  French-speaking  Walloons  showed  so 
many  of  the  characteristics  of  Frenchmen  that  such  influence 
as  they  exerted  may  be  accounted  French.  The  Huguenots  / 
who  made  their  homes  in  sixteenth-century  England  were  for  1 
the  most  part  skilled  artisans  or  professional  men,  silk- weavers 
or  practitioners  in  medicine.  The  refinements  of  life  bene- 
fited in  all  directions  by  their  presence.  Tudor  England  was 
backward  in  manufacturing  or  scientific  ingenuity,  and  the 
ahen  Protestant  invasion  was  well  fitted  to  offer  her  useful 
instruction  in  science  and  manufacture.  Religious  sympathy 
checked  effective  jealousy  in  commercial  circles,  and  restrained 
the  mob's  suspicion  of  foreign  custom  and  speech.  Scholar- 
ship, too,  was  well  represented  among  Huguenot  visitors. 
The  French  refugees  who  attended  Edward  VI's  court  included 
"Henri  ^tienne^,  the  scholar  xyi^ter,  who  did  more  than  any  | 
mail  in  Europe  for  the  scholarly  study  of  Greek  and  the  J 
dissemination  of  scholarly  culture.  The  greatest  of  French 
scholars,  the  younger  Scaliger,  was  a  later  visitor.  Tudor 
Englishmen  who  were  conscious  of  intellectual  aspirations 
fervently  blessed  the  arrival  of  the  Huguenots. 

With  the  ripening  of  the  Huguenot  alliance  opportunities 


I 


38      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

increased  for  English  intercourse  with  all  ranks  of  the  French 
reforming  party.  As  the  civil  and  religious  strife  in  France 
waxed  more  furious,  the  Huguenots  repeatedly  appealed  for 
English  intervention  under  arms.  Twice  in  Elizabeth's  reign, 
near  the  beginning  and  near  the  end,  English  armies  joined 
Huguenot  soldiers  on  the  field  of  battle  in  France.  A  brilliant 
file  of  Huguenot  leaders — Odet  de  Chatillon,  Coligny  s  brother, 
whom  Ronsard  acclaimed  as  '  I'Hercule  Chretien ',  Fran9ois 
de  la  Noue,  general  and  military  writer,  Du  Plessis  Mornay, 
apologist  for  Protestantism — came  to  the  English  court  to 
petition  the  queen  for  military  help.  In  all  these  men 
humanist  sympathies  enlivened  religious  zeal.  Elizabethan 
courtiers  delighted  in  personal  friendship  with  the  flower  of 

T^the  Huguenot  fraternity.  The  chief  Elizabethan  champion 
of  the  Renaissance,  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  lived  in  closest  intimacy 
with  the  most  enlightened  of  French  Protestants  throughout 

uhis  short  career  of  manhood. 

The  development  of  the  French  Reformation  helped,  some- 
what illogically,  to  ratify  in  public  opinion  political  alliance 
with  a  Catholic  power,  as  well  as  to  confirm  the  hold  of  French 
culture  on  Elizabethan  England,  A  diplomatic  episode  which 
supplemented  the  Protestant  influence  curiously  illustrates 
the  paradoxical  workings  of  the  international  situation.  An 
efficient  factor  in  the  promotion  of  the  friendly  intercourse 
betw^een  the  two  countries,  which  the  Huguenot  movement 
encouraged,  was  the  prolonged  negotiation  for  the  marriage 
of  the  English  Protestant  queen  to  a  French  Catholic  prince. 
This  strange  scheme  of  diplomatic  matrimony  was  pursued 
intermittently  but  without  disruption  for  thirteen  years.  Reli- 
gious differences  did  not  deter  Queen  Elizabeth  from  serious 
contemplation  of  a  matrimonial  union  with  a  Catholic  prince 
of  France.  Indeed,  she  encouraged  the  advances  not  of  one 
heir  of  French  royalty  but  of  two  in  succession.  Her  first 
French  wooer  was  Francis  I's  grandson,  Henry,  Duke  of 
Anjou,  and  when  he  ascended  the  French  throne  as  Henry  III 
he  yielded  his  place  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  suitor  to  his  younger 
brother  Francis,  the  Duke  of  Alen9on.  Both  princes  were 
sons^-of  Catherine  de'  Medici,  and  were  in  sympathy  with  the 


QUEEN   ELIZABETH'S   FRENCH   SUITOR       39 

Italian    leanings   of  the   French   world   of   art   and    letters. 
Indulgent  to  every  sensual  vice  they  were  neither  physically 
nor   morally  deserving  of  respect,  but   their   temperaments 
were  responsive  to   the   call  of  art   and   letters.     Each  was 
a  writer  of  verse  and  a  patron    of  painters   and  sculptors. 
Like    her     mother,    Anne    Boleyn,   Queen    Elizabeth    was/  "^ 
devoted  to  French  literature.     As  a  child  she  translated  into/ 
English    prose  a  French  poem  by  Margaret,  the  cultivated 
Queen  of  Navarre,  her  suitor's  great-aunt.     It  was  a  pious) 
lucubration    of    Huguenot    tendency,  '  Le   miroir   de   Tame 
pecheresse  '  (The  mirror  of  the  sinful  soul).     Ronsard  was  at\ 
one  time  the  English  sovereign's  guest,  and  his  poetic  glori-  / 
fication   of  her  personal  and   intellectual   charm  ranks  with  ' 
the  most  adroit  and  graceful  of  poetic  tributes  to    royalty. 
'  Royally/  '  douce,'  '  courtoise,'  'honneste,'  'liberalle,'  'jeune  de 
face,'  and  'vieille  de  prudence,'  are  among  the  epithets  which 
the  French  courtier-poet  showered  on  Queen  Elizabeth.     His 
poetic  adulation  was  wisely  rewarded  with  a  diamond  jewel. 

With  the  French  princes  who  paid  their  addresses  to  her\ 
Elizabeth  professed  herself  in  complete  aesthetic  sympathy,  \ 
and  for  the  Duke  of  Alenfon  she  soon  pretended  a  consuming  T 
passion.    She  charitably  pardoned  his  ugliness,  and  her  playful 
blandishments  led  him  to  accept  with  a  cheerful  acquiescence 
the  appellation  of  '  litde  frog '  which  she  bestowed  on  him. 
Twice  he  visited    her    court  without   modifying  the    royal 
enthusiasm,  and  in  his  brilliant  retinue  came  many  represen- 
tatives of  current  French  thought  and  fashion,  who  helped  to 
keep  England  loyal  to  French  Renaissance  culture,  and  to 
check  any  exclusive  dependence  on  humanism  of  the  Huguenot 
tinge.     One  of  the  French  duke's  companions  was  Pierre  de 
Bourdeilles,  titular  Abbe  de  Brantome,  the  blithe  biographer^ 
of  contemporary  French  gallantry.    Of  another  of  the  duke's  ^  | 
attendants,  Jean    Bodin,    the    political    philosopher    of    the     ' 
Renaissance,  an  illustrative  story  is  told.     The  learned  visitor, 
after    sojourning  in    the    University   of  Cambridge,    visited 
a   nobleman's    mansion   in    London,   and    he    found  in  each 
place  young  English  students  reading  his  standard  treatise 
De  la  Repiiblique  in  a  Latin    translation.      On  examining 


40      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

the  version,  which  he  assigned  to  the  pen  of  an  incompetent 
French  tutor  in  England,  he  judged  it  to  be  so  inefficient 
that  he  hurried  home  to  turn  his  work  into  scholarly  Latin.^ 
The  anecdote  suggests  how  the  presence  in  England  of 
Bodin's  master,  the  Duke  of  Alencon,  served  incidentally  to 
quicken  the  development  of  English  scholarship  and  learning. 
/  The  premature  death  of  the  dissipated  hero  of  this  royal 
romance  brought  it  to  an  untimely  end.  But  the  general 
belief  in  England  for  so  long  a  period  as  thirteen  years  that 
a  Frenchman  was  to  become  King  Consort  of  England, 
invigorated  the  GaUic  enthusiasm  of  the  English  upper  classes. 
In  the  straitest  circles  of  Protestantism  the  expectation  bred 
dismay  and  complaint  which  steadily  grew.  But  the  plan 
was  credited  with  political  advantage ;  there  were  liberal- 
minded  Protestants  who  acquiesced  in  it  with  missionary  hope, 
and  the  bitter-tongued  opposition  was  reduced  to  impotent 
clamour.  The  personal  constitution  of  the  duke's  escort,  while 
he  was  in  England,  lent  the  project  a  graceful  note  of  culture. 
A  third  link  between  the  English  and  French  nations, 
although  less  direct,  was  hardly  less  efficient  than  the 
queen  s  matrimonial  designs  or  the  Huguenot  intercourse. 
The  strong  political  and  social  tie  which  bound  France 
to  Scotland,  the  independent  northern  half  of  the  British 
island,  stimulated  the  tendency  to  make  English  culture 
tributary   to    France.      The    political    and    social    intimacy 

I  of  France  and  Scotland  was  long  a  supreme  factor  in 
Scottish    history,   and    it   worked   as   an   active    solvent    of 

iBnglish  insularity.  Domestic  bonds  united  the  rulers  of 
the  French  and  Scottish  nations.  There  were  many  inter- 
marriages between  the  royal  houses  of  the  two  kingdoms, 
and  the  royal  family  of  the  Stuarts  eagerly  imbibed  French 
culture,  in  both  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries.  Much 
French  poetry  bears  witness  to  the  intimacy  of  French  and 
Scottish  royal  circles.  James  I's  daughter,  Margaret,  who  was 
wife  of  Louis  XI  while  he  was  Dauphin,  penned  some  touching 
French  rondeaus,  and  was  patron  of  French  men  of  letters. 

^  Preface   to    the    English    translation  of    Bodin's   Com»io?rcc>ea/e,  by 
Richard  KnoUes,  1606. 


At 


^\.  .> 


V^.n^^ 


THE   FRANCO-SCOTTISH   ALLIANCE  41 

James  V,  great-great-grandson  of  James  I,  married  twice,  and 
both  his  queens  were   French   princesses.       One,  Madeleine, 
was  Francis  I's  daughter,  and  moved  the  youthful  adoration 
of  Ronsard,  who  as  a  boy  was  page  at  her  husband's  Scottish 
court.     The  second  of  James  V's  two  queens,  Marie  de  Guise, 
was  daughter  of  the  great  Catholic  house,  and  was  treated  by 
Francis  I  as  an  adopted  daughter  ;  she  was  the  mother  of  Mary 
Stuart.     Mary  Queen  of  Scots  was  thus  half  a  Frenchwoman 
French  was  practically  her  mother-tongue,  and   the  French 
accent  with  which  she  spoke  Scottish  made  the  tongue,  other- 
wise most  cacophonous  to  French   ears,   graceful   and    har- 
monious.    French  poetry  was  Mary  Stuart's  chief  reading,  I 
Ronsard  and  Du  Bellay  devoted  their  finest  powers  to  glowing! 
eulogies  of  her  fascinating  beauty,  and  the  French  verse  which) 
she  loved  to  pen  on  their  pattern  moved  the  hearts  of  her 
French  admirers.^     Her  son  James,  whom  Henry  of  Navarre  I 
called  '  captain  of  arts  and  clerk  of  arms ',  welcomed  French  / 
poets  to  his  court  with  all  his  mother's  ardour.  ' 

The  flame  of  French  culture  burnt  very  briskly  at  sixteenth- 
century  Edinburgh,  and  French  influence  farther  south  was 
thereby  quickened.  The  promising  youth  of  Scotland  wasy 
educated  in  France.  Scottish  students  distinguished  themselves  I 
as  professors  at  French  Universities.  Scottish  hospitality  was 
constantly  offered  to  French  guests,  and  England  lay  within 
the  lines  of  communication.-  The  Gallic  sentiment  which 
was  woven  into  the  web  of  Scottish  culture  had  opportunities 
of  communicating  itself  to  the  English  side  of  the  Tweed.  At 
the  end  of  Elizabeth's  reign  political  parties  were  vying  with 
one  another  in  advocacy  of  the  Scottish  king's  claim  to  the 
Enghsh  throne,  and  the  strong  Scottish  party  in  England  saw 
an  advantage  in  championing  French  standards  of  taste.  When 
the  sixteenth  century  came  to  a  close,  French  breezes  played 
perceptibly  on  Elizabethan  England  from  the  Cheviot  Hills 

^  Cf.  Brantome,  V/es  des  Dai/ies  Illustres,  No.  Ill,  Marie  Stuart, 
Reyne  d'Escosse. 

^  The  first  road-book  for  England  was  published  at  Paris  in  1579,  and 
was  prepared  by  Jean  Bernard  chiefly  for  travellers  from  France  to 
Scotland.  The  title  ran:  La  Guide  des  Chemins  d' Angleterre  fort 
necessaire  ct  ceux  qui y  voyagent  ou  qui passent  de  France  en  Escosse. 


i 


42      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

as  well  as  from  the  English  Channel.  Politics  in  England, 
whether  they  be  examined  in  their  ecclesiastical,  their  diplo- 
matic, or  their  dynastic  aspect,  tended  through  the  era  of  the 
French  Renaissance  to  familiarize  Englishmen  with  the  culture 
of  France. 


X 

The  Study  of  French  in  Tudor  Society 

The  political  conditions,  which  brought  France  and  England 
in  the  sixteenth  century  into  familiar  intimacy,  find  a  natural 
reflection  in  the  social  usages  of  Tudor  England.  English 
society  had  through  mediaeval  times  cherished  a  predilection 
,  for  French  modes  and  manners.  In  Tudor  England  know- 
i  ledge  of  the  French  language  and  sympathy  with  French 
social  habits  finally  became  accepted  badges  of  gentility. 
Taste  in  dress,  in  recreation,  and  in  culinary  matters,  was 
dictated  for  the  most  part  by  French  example.  The  insular 
prejudice  against  foreigners  was  not  extinguished,  and  the 
notorious  riot  in  London  on  'Evil  May-day'  of  151 7,  when 
the  lives  and  property  of  foreign  visitors  were  menaced  with 
[destruction,  proved  the  strength  of  the  hate  of  foreigners 
^among  the  trading  and  labouring  classes  of  the  capital.  The 
antipathy  was  rarely  shared  by  the  upper  classes,  but  it 
lingered  on  in  the  middle  and  the  lower  orders.  The  authori- 
ties found  means  of  holding  mob  violence  in  check,  but 
suspicion  and  dislike  of  the  alien  found  constant  voice  in  both 
literary  satire  and  the  illiterate  scurrility  of  the  street.  The 
penetrating  charm — '  le  douceur  ' — of  French  culture  could, 
however,  be  relied  on  to  quench  the  flames  of  merely  insular 
jealousy. 

Throughout  the  century  young  Englishmen  of  good  family 
invariably  completed  their  education  in  foreign  travel  and  by 
attendance  at  a  foreign  university.  In  many  quarters  the  prac- 
tice was  deemed  to  be  perilous  to  the  students'  religion  and 
morals.  VThe  foundation  of  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  in  1592 


ENGLISHMEN  S  STUDY  OF  FRENCH    43 

was  justified  on  the  jrround  '  that  many  of  our  people  have 
usually  heretofore  used  to  travel  into  France,  Italy,  and  vSpain, 
to  get  learning  in  such  foreign  universities,  whereby  they  have 
been  infected  with  popery  and  other  ill  qualities '}  But  the 
usage  of  youthful  peregrination  was  barely  affected  by  such 
suspicions.  The  young  Englishman's  educational  tour  often 
extended  to  Italy  and  Germany  as  well  as  to  France,  but 
France  was  rarely  omitted,  and  many  youths  confined  their 
excursions  to  French  territory.  Neither  PVancis  Bacon  nor 
his  brother  Anthony  passed  in  their  Wanderjahre  beyond 
French  bounds.  As  far  as  we  know,  Francis  went  no  further 
afield  than  Paris.  Anthony  chiefly  spent  his  time  in  the  south 
of  France,  and  while  sojourning  at  Bordeaux  he  became  the 
intimate  friend  of  Montaigne.  Almost  every  French  university 
had  some  English  students.  The  main  aim  of  these  visitors  to 
France  was  to  acquire  a  good  French  accent,  always  a  matter 
of  difficulty  with  Englishmen,  and  to  learn  manners,  of  which 
Tudor  Englishmen  were  commonly  held  to  be  congenitally 
innocent,  '  The  first  country,'  wrote  James  Howell,  who  had 
a  keen  eye  for  deportment,  '  that  it  is  requisite  for  the  English 
to  know  is  France.' 

Nor  was  provision  of  a  very  adequate  kind  for  acquiring 
the  French  language  wanting  at  home.  The  tradition  of 
French  study  was  of  old  standing  in  England.  But  never 
before  the  Tudor  epoch  did  the  French  teacher  fill  a  com- 
manding place  in  English  society. 

From  early  days  of  the  French  Renaissance  French  philo- 
logists prophesied  that  the  French  tongue  would  become  the 
universal  language  of  culture.  Many  Frenchmen  proudly 
claimed,  while  the  century  was  yet  young,  that,  as  far  as  Eng- 
land was  concerned,  that  consummation  was  already  reached. 
'  In  England  French  is  spoken,'  writes  a  French  grammarian 
about  1550,  'at  any  rate  among  the  princes  and  their  courts 
in  all  their   talk.'^     In  1552,  Etienne  Fasquier,  a  poe^and 

*  J.  W.  Stubbs's  History  of  the  University  0/  Ditblin,  1889,  p.  354. 

^  Jacques  Peletier  du  Mans,  Dialogues  de  rOrtografe,  p.  60  (1550): 
*  En  Angleterre,  amoins  entre  les  Princes  e  en  leurs  cours,  iz  parle[n]t 
Francois  en  tous  leurs  propos.'     Of  the  distribution  of  *  la  tres-noble  et 


44     FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

critic  who  lived  on  friendly  terras  with  Montaigne  and  other 
princes  of  French  literature  and  confidently  foretold  a  world- 
wide adoption  of  the  French  language,  wrote  to  Adrian 
Turnebus,  the  Greek  scholar  of  Paris,  that  'there  is  no 
nobleman's  house  in  England,  Scotland,  or  Germany  without 
a  tutor  to  teach  the  children  French  '.^ 

Through  the  early  part  of  the  century  Tudor  England  was 
peculiarly  distinguished  by  the  number  of  French  humanists 
— Frenchmen    of  literary    distinction — who    faced  the   task 

L  of  teaching  French  to  English  boys  and  girls  of  royal  or 
gentle  birth.  These  visitors  played  a  prominent  part  on 
the    social    stage.      At    the    very    opening    of    the    epoch 

!  Henry  VII  appointed  Bernard  Andre,  a  native  of  Toulouse, 

I  tutor  to  his  sons,  Arthur  and  Henry.  Andre  was  so  facile 
a  writer  of  French  and  Latin  verse  that  by  a  paradoxical 
freak   of  fortune  he  became  Poet  Laureate  at  the  E:nglish 

\  court.  Among  other  French  tutors  in  Tudor  England  was 
Nicolas  Bourbon,  a  protege  of  Queen  Anne  Boleyn.  He  was 
a  humanist  of  wide  repute,  whose  friends  included  Rabelais 
and  Marot.  From  Bourbon,  Robert  Dudley,  Earl  of  Leicester, 
with  his  brothers  and  their  kinsfolk  learnt  French  as  children. 
Bourbon  mingled  with  leaders  of  the  reforming  party  while  in 
England  during  Henry  VIII's  reign,  and  eulogized  in  facile 
epigrams  Cromwell  and  Cranmer,  while  he  discourteously 
taunted  Sir  Thomas  More  with  his  lowly  origin  and  the 
resemblance  of  his  surname  to  the  Greek  word  for  '  fool '. 
On  re-settling  in  France,  Bourbon  abandoned  the  church  of 
the  Reformers  and  re-entered  the  orthodox  fold,  but  his 
humanist  sympathy  and  reputation  knew  no  decay,  and 
distinguished  him  in  both  camps. 

tres-parfaite  langue  Fran^aise',  Mellema,authorof  aDictionnaire  flamand- 
fran^ais,  1591,  writes  somewhat  later:  '  Puis  grande  partie  d'Alemaigne, 
du  pays  de  Levant,  de  Muscovie,  de  Pologne,  iVAngletene  et  d'Ecosse 
usent  de  ladite  langue.' 

1  Les  Lettres  d'Estienne  Pasquier,  Amsterdam,  1723,  Liv.  i,  p.  5  : 
'  Presque  en  toute  I'AUemagne  (que  dy-je,  I'Allemagne,  si  I'Angleterre  et 
I'Escosse  y  sont  comprises)  il  ne  se  trouve  maison  noble  qui  n'ait  pre- 
cepteur  pour  instruire  ses  enfans  en  nostre  langue  Francjoise.  Uonques 
I'Allemand,  I'Anglois  et  rp:cossois  se  paissent  de  la  douceur  de  nostre 
vuleaire.' 


NICOLAS    DENISOT    IN   ENGLAND  45 

Of  a  third  French  tutor  in  luigland  an  even  more 
interesting  story  may  be  told.  A  French  poet  of  modest 
attainments,  with  an  equal  capacity  for  art  and  poetry,  Nicolas 
Denisot  (1515-59)  was  French  tutor  of  the  three  daughters 
of  Protector  Somerset,  the  Protestant  statesman.  Under 
Denisot's  guidance  the  young  English  ladies  wrote  Latin 
elegies  on  the  queen  of  contemporary  French  literature, 
Margaret  of  Navarre.  The  labour  of  love  was  welcomed 
with  enthusiasm  in  Paris.  The  Latin  verses — one  hundred 
quatrains — were  published  in  Paris  in  1550  under  Denisot's 
editorship.  The  poetic  essay  moved  the  sympathy  of 
Denisot's  poetic  friends — phisietirs  des  excellentz  poetes  de 
la  France.  A  volume  of  translations  from  French  pens  in 
Greek  and  Italian  as  well  as  in  French  was  issued  by 
Denisot  next  year.^  Denisot's  triumph  in  bringing  his 
English  pupils  under  the  banner  of  French  humanism  deeply 
impressed  Frenchmen.  Ronsard  was  then  approaching  the 
throne  of  French  poetry,  and  in  one  of  the  great  poet's 
earliest  odes  he  salutes  the  ladies  Seymour  with  charming 
buoyancy.     If  Orpheus  had  heard 

.  ,  .  .  le  luth  des  Sirenes 
Qui  Sonne  aux  bords  escumeux 
Des  Albionnes  arenes, 

the  Greek  lyrist  would  have  forsaken  his  own  pagan  key  and 
learned  of  the  Englishwomen  their  Christian  note.  Ronsard 
exuberantly  credits  Denisot  with  drawing  England  into 
alliance  with  France  in  the  war  which  the  Renaissance  waged 
on  barbarism. 

Denisot  se  vante  heure  [i.e.  heureux] 

D 'avoir  oublie  sa  terre 

Ft  passager  demeure 

Trois  ans  en  vostre  Angleterre  ... 

.  .  .  .  les  esprits 
D'Angleterre  et  de  la  France, 
Bandez  d'une  ligue,  ont  pris 
Le  fer  contre  I'ignorance. 

^  The  rare  volume  is  entitled  Le  tombeau  de  Marguerite  de  Valois 
royne  de  Naiuirre  faict  pretnierement  en  distiques  Latins  par  les  trois 
saeurs  A  tine.  Marguerite  et  Jeantie  de  Sey/nour,  princesses  en  Angleterre 
(Paris,  1551). 


46  FRANCE    AND   TUDOR  CULTURE 

All  that  was  needed  to  seal  the  union,  in  Ronsard's  gallant 
fancy,  was  for  one  of  Denisot's  English  scholars  to  cross  the 
sea  and  find  a  French  husband. 

Lors  vos  escrits  avancez 
Se  verront  recompensez 
D'une  chanson  mieux  sonnee 
Qui  crira  vostre  hymenee.^ 

The  missionaries  of  French  humanism  among  the  Tudor 
nobility  did  not  live  without  honour  in  their  own  country. 
Bernard  Andre,  Nicolas  Bourbon,  and  Nicolas  Denisot  were 
all  faithful  servants  in  the  temple  of  French  scholarship,  if 
they  did  not  pass  beyond  the  outer  courts.  Their  presence 
in  England  is  a  notable  episode  in  the  international  story. 

Nor  was  the  teaching  of  French  confined  to  the  children  of 
the  nobility.  At  the  Grammar  School  of  Southampton  a 
refugee  from  French  Flanders  was  appointed  head  master 
early  in  Elizabeth  s  reign.  There  all  the  boys  had  to  speak 
French  during  school-time,  under  pain  of  wearing  a  fool's  cap 
at  meals.  Professional  teachers  of  French  for  the  middle 
classes  abounded  in  London  at  the  end  of  the  century.  One 
Claude  De -saint -liens,  a  Bourbon  gentleman  who  anglicized 
his  French  name  into  the  English  word  Holy-band,  had 
his  class-rooms  at  the  sign  of  the  Lucrece  in  St.  Paul's 
Churchyard,  above  the  shop  of  a  leading  printer,  publisher, 
and  bookseller  of  the  day,  Thomas  Purfoot.     The  literary 

1  profession  in  Elizabethan  England  was  disposed  to  cultivate 

Triendly  intercourse  with  the  French  tutor. 

Many  of  these  French  teachers  in  London  were  voluminous 
authors  of  educational  manuals.  French  grammars,  helps  to 
pronunciation,  conversation -books  for  the  fit  education  of 
young  English   gentlemen   and   gentlewomen,   flowed   from 

1  Ronsard,  Odes,  Livre  V,  No.  III.  Ronsard  addresses  Ode  X  in  the 
same  book  to  Denisot  as  '  peintre  et  poete'.  Remi  Belleau,  Ronsard's 
colleague  of  the  Pleiade,  paid  Denisot  in  a  sonnet  a  naive  compliment  on 
his  industrious  pursuit  of  the  two  arts  [CEuvres,  ed.  Gouverneur,  Paris, 
1867,  t.  i,  p.  202): 

Ce  double  trait,  dont  I'un  industrieux 
Ravit  notre  oeil,  I'autre  doux  notre  oreille  ; 
De  ta  main  docte  annonce  la  merveille, 
Et  de  tes  vers  Taccent  laborieux. 


LEXICOGRAPHY   AND   GRAMMAR  47 

their  pens  in  profusion.  On  the  foundation  of  French-English 
vocabularies  of  recent  compilation  was  based  one  of  the  best 
early  efforts  in  lexicography  which  Elizabethan  England 
produced — Randle  Cotgrave's  well-known  French-English  1 
Dictionary  (161 1).  This  masterly  effort  to  make  the  French! 
language  accessible  to  Elizabethan  Englishmen  renders 
modern  students  the  lasting  service,  hardly  designed  by  its 
author,  of  determining  the  precise  meaning  of  many  an 
obsolete  Elizabethan  word. 

Of  early  French  grammars  produced  in  England,  the 
fullest  and  best  came  from  the  pen  of  an  Englishman,  John\ 
Palsgrave,  who  acted  as  chaplain  to  Henry  VII I's  sister 
while  she  was  Queen  of  France.  Later  Palsgrave  became 
tutor  of  Henry  VIII's  natural  son,  the  Earl  of  Richmond. 
His  voluminous  L' Esclarcisse}ne7it  de  la  langue  FraJigoyse^ 
which  was  published  in  London  in  1530,  is  a  philological 
monument  and  the  acknowledged  parent  of  all  French 
grammars  of  France.  It  had  no  French  predecessor.  The 
path  to  a  knowledge  of  French  was  never  easier  for  English- 
men than  in  Tudor  times,  and  the  Tudor  text-books  of  the 
French  teachers  were  nobly  crowned  by  the  domestic  labours 
of  Palsgrave  and  Cotgrave. 


XI 

French  Dress,  French  Wines,  and  French  Dances 

There  was  no  phase  of  social  life  in  which  French  taste  failed 
to  exercise  authority  in  Tudor  England.  Very  widespread  was 
French  influence  on  English  costume  in  the  sixteenth  century. 
From  a  far  earlier  period  French  fashions  in  dress  won  in 
England  the  admiration  of  the  rich.  Chaucer  in  the  four- 
teenth century  bears  witness  to  his  countrymen's  love  of  the 
refinements  of  French  garments.  From  end  to  end  of  the 
sixteenth  century  the  French  tailor  was  the  acknowledged 
arbiter  of  English  fashions  in  clothes  for  both  men  and 
women. 


48      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

Of  the  English  gallant,  Sir  Thomas  More  wrote,  in  words 
often  repeated  by  his  successors  : 

He  struts  about 

In  cloaks  of  fashion  French.     His  girdle,  purse. 

And  sword  are  French.     His  hat  is  French. 

His  nether  limbs  are  cased  in  French  costume. 

His  shoes  are  French.     In  short,  from  top  to  toe 

He  stands  the  Frenchman.^ 
The  English  gallant  w^as  not  averse  to  modifying  French 
schemes  of  apparel  by  adapting  features  from  Italy  and 
Spain.  According  to  Shakespeare's  Merchant  of  Venice 
(I.  ii.  79-81)  the  young  baron  of  England  buys  only  his  round 
hose  in  France ;  he  obtains  his  doublet  from  Italy,  his  bonnet 
from  Germany,  and  his  behaviour  everywhere.  Similarly 
Dekker  remarks  that  an  Englishman's  suit  of  clothes  steals 
patches  from  every  nation  'to  piece  out  his  pride'.  But 
French  tailors  controlled  the  Tudor  scheme  of  dress.  The 
Porter  in  Macbeth  (ll.  iii.  15)  attests  that  the  English  tailor's 
habitual  offence  was  that  of  '  stealing  out  of  a  French  hose ' 
(i.  e.  of  slavishly  copying  French  fashions).  '  Bonjour,  there  's 
a  French  salutation  to  your  French  slop,'  is  one  of  Mercutio's 
quips  at  Romeo's  expense.  Camden's  friend,  Richard  Carew, 
may  be  trusted  when  at  the  end  of  the  century  he  remarks 
that  English  fashions,  despite  their  mixed  quality,  came  in 
substance  from  our  neighbours  the  French;  that  every 
change  in  the  French  vogue  was  faithfully  reflected  in 
England,  and  that  the  store  of  French  patterns  was  daily 
renewed .2  The  best  judges  in  such  matters  shared  Polonius's 
opinion  {Hamlet,  I.  iii.  70-4),  when  he  advised  his  son — 

1  I  quote  the  efificient  English  rendering  by  John  Howard  Marsden  in  his 
Philomorus  :  notes  o?t  Latin  poems  of  Thomas  More,  2nd  edition,  1878, 
p.  223.  In  More's  Epigrammata  the  satiric  poem  is  headed  '  In  Anglum 
Gallicae  linguae  affectatorem  '.     The  opening  verses  run  : 

Amicus  et  sodalis  est  Lalus  mihi, 
Britanniaque  natus  altusque  insula. 
At  cum  Britannos  Galliae  cultoribus 
Oceanus  ingens,  lingua,  mores  dirimant, 
Spernit  tamen  Lalus   Britannica  omnia, 
Miratur  expetitque  cuncta  Gallica. 

2  Camden,  Remains  (1870  edition),  p.47  :  '  Our  neighbours  the  French 
have  been  likewise  contented  we  should  take  up  by  retail  their  fashions  : 
or  rather  we  retain  yet  but  some  remnant  of  that  which  once  here  bare  all 
the  sway,  and  daily  renew  the  store.' 


J 


ENGLISH   SATIRE   OF    FRENCH    FASHIONS   49 

Costly  thy  habit  as  thy  purse  can  buy, 
But  not  expressed  in  fancy :    rich  not  gaudy  .  .  . 
And  they  in  France  of  the  best  rank  and  station 
Are  most  select  and  generous,  chief  in  that. 

Tudor  costume  found  in  France  the  surest  type  of  elegance. 

Patriotic  sentiment  exposed  the  passion  for  F>ench  finery, 
like  all  French  social  usages,  to  frequent  ridicule.  Insular 
moralists  detected  in  the  '  viperous  '  fascination  of  the  French 
refinements  incentive  to  every  sin.  Voluble  was  the  satiric 
scorn  of  all  foreign  affectations  in  manner  and  speech,  and 
especially  of  the  homage  paid  to  the  French  standards  of 
taste.  Insular  sentiment  tended  to  impute  to  the  Anglo- 
French  vogue  a  habit  of  ludicrous  braggadocio.  When  a 
number  of  young  English  noblemen  and  gentlemen  returned 
home  from  a  visit  to  the  French  court  in  15 18,  the  chronicler 
Hall  declares  that  '  they  were  all  French  in  eating,  drinking, 
and  apparel,  yea  in  French  vices  and  brags,  so  that  all  estates 
of  England  were  by  them  laughed  at '.  Sir  Thomas  More 
in  his  epigrams,  the  Puritan  divines  during  the  reign  of 
Edward  VI,  the  dramatists  and  pamphleteers  at  the  extreme 
end  of  the  century,  all  vie  with  one  another  in  quips  at  the 
expense  of  the  '  giddy-pated  English  ',  who  were  always  on 
the  watch  for  '  new  French  cuts ',  and  whose  doublet,  slops, 
and  gloves,  were  designed  on  French  models.  However  small 
was  the  gallant's  knowledge  of  the  French  language,  it  was 
his  habit,  according  to  patriotic  censure,  to  boast  familiarity 
with  it.  Of  the  English  man  of  fashion  More  again  writes  in 
language  which  was  often  repeated  : 

If  he  speak  f 

Though  but  three  little  words  in  French,  he  swells    . 
And  plumes  himself  on  his  proficiency, 
And  his  French  failing,  then  he  utters  words 
Coined  by  himself,  with  widely  gaping  mouth  ' 

And  sound  acute,  thinking  to  make  at  least 
The  accent  French. 

More  insists  that  whatever  language  the  Englishman  essays 
to  speak,  his  bad  French  controls  his  tongue  and  accentuates 


50      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

the  absurdity  of  his  bastard  cosmopolitanism.     '  With  accent 
French  ',  More's  Englishman 

speaks  the  Latin  tongue, 
With  accent  French  the  tongue  of  Lombardy, 
To  vSpanish  words  he  gives  an  accent  French, 
German  he  speaks  with  the  same  accent  French. 
In  truth  he  seems  to  speak  with  accent  French, 
I  All  but  the  French  itself.     The  French  he  speaks 

With  accent  British. 

More's  sarcasm  plainly  credits  France  with  the  function  of 
missionary  of  all  foreign  culture.  The  satirist  Nashe  broadly 
insinuated  that  the  1^2nglishman  who  travelled  in  France  gained 
no  profit  save  the  habit  of  loose  living  and  of  speaking  Eng- 
.^  lish  strangely  and  insolently.^ 

In  no  branch  of  fashionable  life  was  Tudor  custom  free 
from  French  influence.  Ladies  of  rank  who  devoted  their 
leisure  to  lacemaking  and  embroidery  sought  their  patterns 
in  French  manuals  of  needlework,  some  of  which  w'ere  re- 
published in  England.  France  enjoyed  in  the  sixteenth 
century  a  supreme  repute  for  culinary  skill,  for  fantastical 
meats  and  salads,  for  sumptuous  confectionery.  The  Eng- 
lish nobility  invariably  employed  French  cooks,  who  were 
reckoned  '  to  have  the  best  invention  of  any  in  Europe ',  and 
their  epicurean  ingenuity  was  denounced  as  unrighteous 
alchemy.-^  Of  extravagant  entertainments  among  the  English 
nobility,  the  gossiping  letter-writer.  Chamberlain,  bitterly 
complains  early  in  the  seventeenth  century,  and  he  lays  the 

/  '  Thomas  Nashe,  The  Unfortunate  Tfavctler,  1587  (Works,  ed, 
<'  McKerrow,  ii.  300) :  '  What  is  there  in  France  to  be  learned  more 
than  in  England,  but  falsehood  in  fellowship,  perfect  slovenry,  to  love  no 
man  but  for  my  pleasure,  to  swear  '  Ah  par  la  mort  Dieu',  when  a  man's 
hams  are  scabbed.  For  the  idle  traveller  (I  mean  not  for  the  soldier) 
I  have  known  some  that  have  continued  there  by  the  space  of  half  a  dozen 
years,  and  when  they  come  home,  they  have  hid  a  little  weerish  lean  face 
under  a  broad  hat,  kept  a  terrible  coil  with  the  dust  in  the  street  in  their 
long  cloaks  of  gray  paper,  and  spoke  English  strangely.  Noug'ht  else 
have  they  profited  by  their  travel,  save  learned  to  distinguish  between  the 
true  Bordeaux  grape,  and  know  a  cup  of  neat  Gascoigne  wine  from  wine 
of  Orleans.' 

^  Moryson's  Itinerary,  1617,  Part  III,  p.  135;  y{a.n\sovLS  Description 
(1577),  i.  144  (New  Shakspere  vSoc). ;  Overbury's  Characters,  1614, 
*  A  French  Cook.' 


I 


FRENCH    WINES  51 

fault  at  French  doors.  After  describing-  a  series  of  rich 
banquets  in  London  he  remarks :  '  But,  pour  retourney  a 
nos  uiOiUoiis^  this  feasting-  begins  to  grow  at  an  exces- 
sive rate.  The  very  provisions  of  cates  for  this  supper, 
rising  to  more  than  ;^6oo ;  ivherein  we  are  too  apish  to 
imitate  the  French  monkeys  in  such  monstrous  zuaste."  ^ 

French  wines  seem  also  to  have  been  reckoned  enviable 
luxuries  for  which  high  prices  were  paid.  The  taste  for 
foreign  wines  steadily  grew  through  the  sixteenth  century, 
and  was  gratified  by  importations  from  Spain  and  Germany, 
and  even  from  Italy  and  Greece,  as  well  as  from  France.  But 
France  easily  maintained  her  supremacy  as  wine-purveyor  for 
the  English  market.  In  Shakespeare's  youth  it  was  stated 
that  as  many  as  lifty-six  sorts  of  French  wine  were  known  in 
England,  whereas  no  more  than  thirty  kinds  came  from  the 
rest  of  the  Continent.^  Nashe  credits  the  travelled  Englishman 
with  a  capacity  to  distinguish  between  the  true  and  false 
Bordeaux  grape,  or  at  least  to  know  a  cup  of  neat  Gascon 
from  wine  of,Orleans.  French  wines  were  regarded  as  lighter 
than  any  other.  English  travellers  noticed  with  surprise  the 
French  habit  of  mixing  water  with  wine.^  Rarely  could 
they  be  induced  to  imitate  so  fantastic  a  weakness.  The 
influence  which  the  drinking  customs  of  French  society 
exerted  on  the  Elizabethans  tended  to  sobriety. 

Despite  the  satirists'  shots,  which  they  fired  at  random  \ 
over  the  whole  field  of  French  usage,  the  embellishments  which 
France  contributed  to  Tudor  life  bear  unvarying  testimony 
to  the  superior  artistic  sentiment  and  skill  of  our  neighbours. 
It  was  not  solely  devices  of  French  birth  which  France  intro- 
duced into  England.  Many  Italian  and  some  Spanish  accom- 
plishments reached  England  through  France.  The  Italians 
perfected  the  art  of  fencing,  and  several  eminent  Eliza- 
bethan fencing-masters  were  Italian.  Yet  the  accomplish- 
ment in  England  owed  much  to  French  tutors.  Shakespeare 
in  Hamlet  (IV.  vii.  100)  mentions  Frenchmen  as  champions 

^  Court  of  James  /,  i.  459. 

"^  William  Harrison's  Description  0/ England  {i^jy),  i.  149. 

'  Fynes  Moryson's  Itinerary,  1617,  Part  III,  p.  135. 

E  2 


52      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

of  the  exercise,  and  calls  fencing  experts  '  scrimers '.  The 
term  is  a  colloquial  Anglicism  of  the  pure  French  word 
'  escrimeurs ',  and  its  employment  points  to  the  nationality 
of  many  instructors  in  Shakespeare's  England.  Of  the 
equestrian  art  of  the  manege  in  Elizabethan  England— the 
exercise  of '  riding  the  Great  Horse  ',— much  the  same  story 
has  to  be  told.  The  chief  riding-masters  in  London  were 
Frenchmen.  Shakespeare  grows  eloquent  over  the  equestrian 
feats  of '  the  French  ',  who  '  can  well  on  horseback '  {Hamlet, 
IV.  vii.  84).  French  manuals  on  the  equestrian  exercise 
were  prized  by  Queen  Elizabeth's  courtiers,  and  the  technical 
terms  were  French  words. ^ 

To  the  French  manner  of  dancing  Elizabethan  England 
stands  deeply  indebted  for  the  chief  development  of  a  popular 
form  of  recreation,  and  a  valued  aid  to  deportment.  One  of 
the  earliest  Tudor  translations  from  the  French  was  a  book  on 
French  dancing.  To  a  treatise,  which  was  publshed  in 
London  in  1521,  on  the  writing  and  speaking  of  French 
by  Alexander  Barclay,  an  indefatigable  translator  of  con- 
temporary foreign  literature,  there  was  appended  a  short 
pamphlet  on  French  dancing,  which  was  translated  by  the 
printer,  Robert  Copland.^  The  encyclopaedic  writer  on 
education,  Sir  Thomas  Elyot,  in  his  Gmi£J^K>iir  (1531)1 
devotes  as  many  as  four  chapters  (xix-xxii)  to  the  his- 
tory and  practice  of  dancing.  ~He  specifies  as  popular 
dances  of  his  own  day  burgenettes  and  pavanes,  tour- 
dions,  galliards,  rounds  and  brawls,  all  of  which  are  either 
directly  or  indirectly  of  French  origin.  Often  a  popular 
Elizabethan  dance  reached  England  through  France  from 
more  distant  lands.  Many  dances  familiar  to  Elizabethan 
students,  like  the  pavane,  the  galliard,  and  the  coranto,  have 

'  See  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury's  Aiitohiflgrafhy,  ed.  Lee,  2nd  edition, 
pp.  39  scq. 

^  The  treatise  on  dancing  is  thus  introduced :—' Here  foloweth  the 
maner  of  dauncynge  of  bace  daunces  after  the  use  of  fraunce  and  other 
places  translated  out  of  frenche  in  englysshe  by  Robert  coplande.'  Most 
of  the  dances  are  clearly  French.  Copland's  translation  was  reprinted 
with  Robert  Laneham's  letter  (ed.  Furnivall),  by  the  New  Shakspere 
Society  in  1890  (pp.  clx-clxii). 


FRKNCH    DANCEvS  53 

been  traced  to  Italy  or  Spain,  but  France  borrowed  them 
from  those  countries,  and  in  her  famih'ar  role  imported  them 
into  England, 

The  names  of  some  very  new  and  fashionable  dances  of 
vShakespeare's  day  betray  a  pure  French  origin.  '  The  French 
brawL'  a  kind  of  cotillon,  and  the  'cincjue  pace  '  or  'cinq  pas' 
(i.  e.  five  paces),  an  anticipation  of  the  minuet,  were  wholly 
of  Gallic  invention.  '  A  newe  ballade,  intytuled  "  Good 
Fellowes  must  go  learne  to  daunce  ",'  which  was  published  in 
1569,  salutes  the  'brail'  as  just  'come  out  of  Fraunce ', 
and  dubs  it  the  '  trickiest '  invention  of  the  year.^  The 
Shakespearean  student  is  equally  familiar  with  '  the  high 
lavolt  ',  a  somewhat  violent  dance,  facility  in  which  was 
reckoned  a  mark  of  refinement,  although  the  steps  approxi- 
mated to  leaps.  Troilus  complains  that  he  '  cannot  heel  the 
high  lavoll  or  sweeten  talk  or  play  at  subtle  games  '.^ 
'  Lavolte  ',  or  '  la  volta  ',  was,  in  spite  of  its  Italian  name,  of 
French,  or  at  any  rate  of  Proven9al  origin.  It  achieved 
a  vast  popularity  in  Parisian  society  late  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  just  before  it  reached  Elizabethan  England.''  Save 
the  '  lavolte ',  these  foreign  dances  are  all  slow  and  stately 
measures,  and  strike  a  suggestive  contrast  with  the  boisterous  1 

^  Lilly's  Ancient  Ballads  and  Broadsides^  p.  22 1.  The  name  of  the 
dance,  '  brawl,'  comes  from  the  Old  French  word  hransle,  and  is  altogether 
distinct  from  'brawl'  in  the  sense  of  'quarrel'.  The  likeness  between 
the  two  words  encouraged  an  obvious  pun.  Cf.  Shakespeare's  Lovers 
Labour  ^s  Lost,  III.  i.  9-10:  '  Moth.  Master,  will  you  win  your  love  in 
a  French  brawl?    Armad.  How  meanest  thou  ?  braivling  in  French  .?' 

"^  Troilus  and  Cressida,  iv.  iv.  88  ;  see  also  Shakespeare's  Henry  V,  ill. 
V.  33.    Other  Elizabethan  dramatists  attest  the  vogue  of  this  new  dance. 

*  Ronsard,in  his  poem  called  Z<i  C/z^?r//'^'(i578),  addressed  to  Marguerite, 
Henri  Ill's  sister  and  Henry  of  Navarre's  wife,  describes  the  dance 
which  he  calls  '  la  volte  proven^ale ': 

Le  Roy  (i,  e.  Henri  III)  dansant  la  volte  Provenc^alle 

Faisoit  sauter  la  Charite  sa  Sceur; 

Elle,  suivant  d'une  grave  douceur, 

A  bonds  legers  voloit  parmy  la  salle : 

Ainsi  qu'on  voit  aux  grasses  nuits  d'Automne 

Un  prompt  Ardant  sur  les  eaux  esclairer, 

Tantost  dega,  tantost  delk  virer, 

Et  nul  repos  a  sa  flame  ne  donne.    {GCuvres,  iv,  pp.  182-3.) 
Reginald  Scot,  in  his  Discoverie  of  Witchcraft  ( 1 584),  ridicules  the  French 
writer  Rodin  for  having  attributed  to  witches  the  recent  introduction  'out 
of  Italie  into  France  of  that  dance  which  is  called  La  volta'. 


54      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

and  tumultuous  movements  of  the  indigenous  English  jig. 
\The  Elizabethan  Englishman's  bearing  acquired  much  new 
gravity  and  dignity  in  the  dancing-schools  of  France. 


XII 
The  Debt  to  the  Art  of  Italy  and  Germany 

France  never  worked  quite  single-handed  in  the  cause  of 
English  aesthetic  progress.  She  had  some  coadjutors.  A 
few  refinements  of  the  noblest  kind,  which  swayed  Tudor 
England  hardly  less  conspicuously  than  literature  moved  her, 
can  scarcely  be  reckoned  among  the  genuine  fruits  of  French 
influence.  Tudor  music,  Tudor  architecture,  Tudor  painting, 
owed  much  to  the  inspiration  of  Europe,  but  other  countries 
than  France  offered  England  incentive  in  those  branches  of 
culture. 

Music  roused  much  enthusiasm  in  Tudor  England,  but 
its  most  popular  developments  were  dictated  by  Italian  and 
not  by  French  example.  The  great  poets  of  the  French 
Renaissance  were  devoted  to  music,  but  French  musicians 
were  for  the  most  part  pupils  of  Italy,  and  gathered  their 
honey  from  Tuscan  or  Neapolitan  flowers.^  The  madrigal, 
so  marked  a  feature  of  Elizabethan  music  that  one  might 
easily  mistake  it  for  a  domestic  invention,  was,  in  spite  of 
abundant  imitations  in  France,  an  Italian  importation.  It 
was  only  in  the  year  15X8  that  the  term  was  first  employed 
in  English.  An  English  amateur  who  had  travelled  in  Italy 
then  ventured  to  write  of  '  certaine  Italian  madrigales  '.'- 
The  word  had  already  been  naturalized  for  a  generation  by 
the  poets  of  France,  but  the  text  and  music  of  the  Eliza- 
bethan madrigals  were  more  often  drawn  direct  from 
Italian  compositions  than  from  French.     Elizabethan  music- 

*  Ronsard,  a  musical  enthusiast,  uses  this  language  of  Orlando  di 
Lasso  (1532-94),  'divin  Orlande,'  a  musician  of  French  birth  who  spent 
most  of  his  life  abroad  and  was  a  composer  of  the  first  rank. 

^  Nicolas  Vonge,  Mitsita  T>a)tsalphia  (1588),  preface. 


\ 


MUSIC   AND   ARCHITECTURE 


vIO 


books  are  laruely  of  Italian  parentage,  and  most  of  the 
musicians  whom  Queen  Elizabeth  and  her  father  took  into 
their  service  were  Italians, 

The  early  date,  at  which  Tudor  interest  manifested  itself 
in  Italian  music  of  the  Renaissance,  may  be  gauged  by  the 
fact  that  the  organist  of  St.  Mark's,  Venice,  Fra  Dionysius 
Memo,  was  brought  to  England  by  Henr)-  Ylll  soon  after 
his  accession,  Rassano,  Lupo,  Ferrabosco,  are  the  names  of 
the  chief  musicians  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  service. 

French  musicians  were  not  wholly  unknown  to  Elizabethan 
England,  and  French  song-books  or  books  of  '  airs '  were  not 
ignored  by  Elizabethan  devisers  of  musical  anthologies.  The 
French  family  of  Lanier,  which  was  famous  in  the  seven- 
teenth century  for  its  mingled  devotion  to  music  and  painting, 
first  settled  in  England  during  Elizabeth's  reign.  The 
earliest  member  who  is  known  to  have  reached  England 
was  Jean  Lanier  of  Rouen,  a  musician  who  died  in  London  in 
1572.*  But,  despite  a  few  French  traces,  Itah'ans  dominated 
the  musical  world  of  Tudor  England.  The  French  influence 
on  Elizabethan  music  is,  on  the  whole,  insignificant  compared 
with  the  Italian, 

Building  was  pursued  in  Tudor  England  on  a  liberal 
scale,  but  Renaissance  influences  were  slow  to  draw  English 
architecture  out  of  its  mediaeval  mould.  A  style,  which 
remained  Gothic  in  spite  of  some  skilful  qualification,  per- 
sisted in  England  long  after  the  forces  of  the  Renaissance  had 
re-created  the  Gothic  vogue  abroad  or  replaced  it  by  another 
manner.      Native   architecture   was   not    eager   to   assimilate 

'  The  most  distinguished  member  of  this  family,  Nicolas  Lanier  (1588- 
1686),  whose  portrait  was  painted  by  Vandyke,  was  not  appointed  master 
of  the  King's  music  before  1626.  It  is  possible  that  G.  Tessier,  an  Italo- 
French  musician  who,  although  he  describes  himself  as  a  Breton,  had 
learned  his  art  in  Italy,  was  also  at  one  time  in  Elizabeth's  service.  In 
1582  he  published  in  Paris  a  book  of  airs  [Proincr  LiTre  d'Airs) 
prefaced  by  an  Italian  letter  addressed  to  the  King  of  France,  Henry  III. 
The  opening  piece  is  dedicated  to  Queen  Elizabeth  :  '  alia  serenissima  ct 
sacratissima  regina  d'  Inghilterra.'  Fifteen  years  later  a  book  of  French  airs 
{Le  Premier  Lh're  de  Chansons  et  Airs)  published  in  London  was  described 
as  by  Carle  Tessier,  '  musitien  de  la  chambre  du  Roy'  (i.e.  Henry  IV). 
Carle  Tessier  was  possibly  a  son  of  G.  Tessier,  and  was  likewise 
apparently  an  occasional  visitor  at  Queen  Elizabeth's  court.  (Cf.  Picot, 
Les  Fran^iiis  Italianisants,  •907>  ^'ol-  •';  PP-  205-7.) 


56      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

foreign  example.  St.  George's  chapel  at  Windsor  and 
Henry  VII's  chapel  at  Westminster,  despite  a  few  Italianate 
details,  bear  witness  in  early  Tudor  England  to  the  con- 
servative tendency.  Hampton  Court  Palace,  in  which  a 
modified  Gothic  scheme  is  applied  to  domestic  purposes, 
pays  small  tribute  to  the  classical  spirit  of  the  new  enlighten- 
ment. In  houses  of  moderate  size  the  late  mediaeval  combina- 
tion of  brick  and  timber  long  continued,  and  the  development 
of  fresh  artistfc  feeling  was  discouraged. 

But  while  the  sixteenth  century  was  still  young,  some 
architectural  innovations  of  the  Renaissance  reached  Eng- 
land from  Italy.  Ultimately  the  Italian  Renaissance  found 
luxurious  expression  in  the  royal  palace  of  Nonesuch  and 
in  a  score  of  noblemen's  mansions.  Much  fine  decorative 
work  in  Henry  \Tirs  later  years  was  designed  and  executed 
by  Italian  craftsmen  or  by  Englishmen  who  had  studied  in 
Italy.  With  the  progress  of  the  century,  German  or  Flemish 
influence,  which  Holbein  inaugurated,  gained  on  Italian 
influence  in  the  architecture  of  Tudor  England.  The  greatest 
public  building  which  was  erected  In  Elizabethan  England, 
Sir  Thomas  Gresham's  Royal  Exchange  in  London,  repro- 
duced by  aid  of  Flemish  workmen  the  design  of  the  Hotel 
des  Villes  Hanseatlques  at  Antwerp. 

France  meanwhile  made  slender  contribution  to  the  archi- 
tectural activity  of  her  neighbour.^  Only  a  little  minor 
ornamentation  in  Tudor  churches  or   houses  Is  attributable 

^  Cf.  Reginald  Blomfield's  History  of  Renaissance  Architecture  in 
Ettgland,  1897,  i.  In  Braiin's  Urbiuvi  Praecipua7-iim  Mundi  Theatrum 
(1582)  there  is  an  engraving  of  Nonesuch  Palace,  with  the  comment  that 
the  architects  and  artificers  employed  on  it  included  Frenchmen  as  well 
as  Dutchmen,  Italians,  and  Englishmen.  Mr.  Blomfield's  remark  on 
this  statement  runs  thus  (i.  18):— 'The  mention  of  Frenchmen  is  also 
remarkable.  The  names  of  French  artists  or  workmen  scarcely  ever 
occur  in  the  State  Papers,  and  there  are  few  instances  of  Renaissance 
work  in  England  which  can  be  attributed  to  them.  The  capitals  to  the 
arch  between  the  More  chantry  and  the  chancel  of  old  Chelsea  Church 
are  an  unusual  instance.  They  closely  resemble  P^rench  work  of  the 
early  sixteenth  century  such  as  is  found  along  the  banks  of  the  Seine 
between  Paris  and  Rouen.  The  monument  in  the  Oxenbrigge  Chapel 
in  Brede  Church,  Sussex,  dated  1537,  is  another  rare  example.  It  is  of 
Caen  stone,  admirably  carved,  and  was  probably  made  in  France  and 
shipped  to  the  port  of  Rye,  some  nine  miles  distant  from  Brede.' 


TUDOR   ART  57 

to  French  hands.  The  master-mason  or  chief  architect  of 
James  V  of  Scotland  came  from  France,  and  Stirhng  Castle 
and  Falkland  Palace  bear  traces  of  French  ingenuity,  but 
in  Scotland,  too,  the  Italian  or  German  vogue  prevailed. 

In  the  result,  Tudor  I^^ngland  remained  poorer  in  speci- 
mens of  Renaissance  architecture  than  Italy  or  France.  Of 
one  type  of  domestic  building,  which  lent  a  peculiar  charm  to 
sixteenth-century  France,  Tudor  England  knew  barely  any- 
thing. There  is  nothing  in  Tudor  England  to  compare  ini 
beauty  or  originality  with  the  wealth  of  chateaus  which/ 
sprang  up  in  the  valley  of  the  Loire  in  the  early  days  of  the\ 
French  Renaissance.  Although  Tudor  architecture  has  a 
serious  and  solid  attraction  of  its  own,  it  lacks  the  buoyant 
freedom  of  French  enterprise  and  invention. 

England  gave  birth  to  no  architect  of  genius  before  the) 
rise  of  Inigojones,  the  designer  of  the  banqueting- hall  of  I 
Whitehall.     Jones,  born  in  1573,  was  a  pupil  of  a  sixteenth- 1 
century  Italian  master,  Falladio.     No  Englishman  before  him 
grasped  the  full  significance  of  the  art   of  the   Italian  Re- 
naissance, which  finally  established  its  prestige  in  England 
in  James   I's    reign.     The   consummate   technical  skill   and 
expansiveness  of  the  French  Renaissance  architecture  never 
knew  an  English  exponent. 

To  Germany  Tudor  England  is  mainly  indebted  for  its 
pictorial  art.  Though  Henry  VIII,  in  loyal  discipleship  to 
Francis  I,  invited  to  England  a  few  Italian  painters,  as  well 
as  Italian  architects  and  musicians,  the  chief  painters  of  Tudor 
England  came,  like  her  tutors  in  theology  and  her  experts 
in  metallurgy  and  mechanics,  from  Germany  or  the  Low 
Countries,  The  greatest  painter  of  Tudor  England,  Holbein, 
was  a  native  of  Augsburg.  His  chief  successor  here.  Sir 
Antonio  More,  was  a  native  of  Utrecht.  Of  the  best  known 
Elizabethan  artists,  Lucas  de  Heere  came  from  Ghent,  Mark 
Gerrard  from  Bruges,  and  Zuccharo  from  the  duchy  of 
Urbino.  The  French  Renaissance  school  of  painting  was 
even  less  familiar  to  Tudor  England  than  its  school  of 
architecture.  In  1 571  an  ambitious  art-dealer  of  Paris  wrote 
entreating     Sir    William    Cecil,    Queen    Elizabeth's    prime 


58      FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

minister,  to  submit  proposals  to  his  royal  mistress  for  the 
purchase  of  his  magnificent  collection  of  masterpieces  by 
French  as  well  as  by  Italian  and  German  artists,  but  the 
offer  was  apparently  rejected.^ 

In  engraving-,  Tudor  England  was  very  far  behind  the 
Continent.  The  art  flourished  in  Germany  for  near  a  cen- 
tury before  any  effort  was  made  to  practise  it  on  English 
soil.  Not  until  the  art  of  engraving  was  perfected  in  Italy, 
Germany,  and  the  Low  Countries  were  any  specimens 
attempted  in  England.  Copperplate  engravers  grew  numer- 
ous in  Elizabeth's  reign,  but  they  were,  for  the  most  part, 
Flemings  or  Germans  of  secondary  repute  in  the  world  at 
large.  English  pupils  occasionally  did  their  Teutonic  masters' 
instruction  much  credit,  but  Tudor  England  produced  no 
master  capable  of  emulating  the  smallest  of  the  achievements 
^i"     >'  of  Albrecht  Durer,  the  German,  or  of  Marcantonio  Raimondi, 

^  .^.^-^^  v\         the  Italian — the  two  artists  who  early  in  the  sixteenth  century 
*  first  set  engraving  securely  among  the  fine  arts.- 

XIII 

The  French  View  of  the  English  National 
Character 

However  uncongenial  may  be  the  conclusion,  we  must  face 
with  what  cheerfulness  we  may,  the  historic  fact  that  Tudor 
England  owed  the  graces  of  life  to  foreign  influence,  and 
chiefly  to  the  influence  of  France.  After  making  allowance 
for  inevitable  tendencies  to  national  assertiveness  and  national 
jealousy,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  the  French  critics  who 
credited  Tudor  England  with  barbarism  had  some  justifi- 
cation   for    their    comment.      The   charge   abounds,  and    is 

*  Le  XVr  siccle  et  les   Valois,  par  le  Comte  de  la  Ferricre,  Paris, 

i879»  PP-  3oo~i-  ,      ^ 

^  See  Sidney  Colvin's  Early  E7is;ravers  ami  Eng)aviiio  m  England, 
1545-1695:  A  Historical  and  Critical  Essay.  (Printed  by  order  of  the 
Trustees  of  the  British  Museum,  1905.)  The  useful  and  beautiful  art  of 
making  '  mill-money'  (i.e.  coins  struck  from  dies  by  machinery)  was  first 
introduced  into  the  Mint  in  England  by  a  French  immigrant  in  1561. 
The  art,  which  both  Da  Vinci  and  Cellini  developed,  reached  France  from 
Italy  in  155 1  (see  W.  j.  Hocking's  Some  Notes  on  I  he  Early  History  of 
Coifuige  by  Miu/iiiiery,  1909). 


ENGLISH  '  BARBARIvSM'  59 

a  commonplace  in  forelon  literature.  It  finds  echo  in 
Shakespeare's  Henry  \  \  where  the  French  officers  taunt  the 
English,  not  only  with  excessive  devotion  to  great  meals  of 
beef,  but  with  deficiency  in  intellectual  armour.^  Courage  and 
tenacity  are  the  only  virtues  these  censors  put  to  the  credit 
of  English  nationality.  Foreign  visitors,  even  scholars  like 
Scaliger,  dwell  regretfully  on  the  English  people's  want  of 
courtesy,  and  accept  the  mysterious  tradition  that  the  county 
of  Kent,  on  whose  coast  foreign  travellers  landed,  was  in- 
habited by  men  trailing  tails  behind  them.  The  tradition  of 
Kentish  men's  tails  was  widespread^among  continental  authors. 
The  fable  seems  to  have  been  first  formulated  in  print  by  the 
Italian  historian  of  England,  Polydore  Vergil.  The  EHza- 
bethan  topographer  of  Kent,  \\'illiam  Lambarde,  reproaches 
Polydore  with  having  led  foreign  nations  to  '  believe  as  verely 
that  [Kentishmen]  have  long  tailes  ^nd  be  monsters  by 
nature  '.- 

The  English  people  repaid  such  insults  w^ith  liberal 
interest.  If  the  civility  of  the  English  court  and  nobility 
was  often  handsomely  acknowledged  by  French  visitors, 
their  patience  was  tried  by  the  rhetoric  of  the  street-corner, 
which  habitually  greeted  the  stranger  as  a  '  French  dog '. 
Estienne  Perlin,  a  French  priest  who  was  a  student  of  Paris 
University,  has  left  an  account  of  a  two-years'  visit  which  he 
paid  England  and  Scotland  at  the  end  of  Edward  VI's  reign." 
Perlin  speaks  bitterly  of  the  manners  of  the  English  people, 
and  of  the  superior  treatment  which  English  visitors  received 
in  France.  '  Les  gens  de  ceste  nation  hayent  a  mort  les 
Francoys,  comme  leurs  vielz  ennemis,  et  du  tout  nous  ap- 
pellent  France  chenesve,  France  dogiie,  qui  est  a  dire 
"maraultz  Francois  ",  "chiens  Francois",  et  autrement  nous  ap- 
pellent  oj'Son  [whoreson],  "  villains  ",  "  filz  de  putaing"  ....  II 

1  He?iry  V,  ill.  iv.  158-62. 

"^  Perambulation  of  Kent,  1 587,  p.  315.  Cf.  Fynes  Moryson,  Itinerary, 
1617,  Part  III,  p.  53  :  'The  Kentish  men  of  old  were  said  to  have  tayles, 
because  trafficking  in  the  Low  Countries,  they  never  paid  full  payments 
of  what  they  did  owe,  but  still  left  some  part  unpaid.'  Moryson's  hardly 
satisfactory  explanation  does  not  seem  to  be  found  elsewhere. 

^  Description  des  royaulntes  iPAngleterre  et  d'Escosse,  Paris,  1 5 58; 
reprinted,  London,  1775,  pp.  II-12. 


6o     FRANCE  AND  TUDOR  CULTURE 

me  desplait  que  ces  vilalns,  estans  en  leur  pays,  nous  crachent 
a  la  face,  et  eulx,  estans  a  la  France,  on  les  honore  et  revere 
comme  petis  dieux ;  en  ce,  les  Francois  se  monstrent  francs 
de  ccEur  et  noble  d'esperit.' 

Another  French  view  of  Tudor  Englishmen  deserves  cita- 
tion. In  De  la  Porte's  standard  thesaurus  called  Les  ^pithetes 
(Paris,  157 1),  more  generous  terms  are  employed  in  an  esti- 
mate of  P^nglish  character  and  physiognomy.  The  following 
is  the  curious  list  of  epithets  which  the  French  writer  de- 
clares to  be  applicable  to  'Les  Anglois' :  '  Blonds,  outrecudiz, 
ennemis  des  francois,  archers,  mutins,  coues  (i.  e.  tailed), 
belliqueus,  anglo-saxons,  superbes,  rouges,  furieus,  hardis, 
audacieus.'  The  legend  of  the  '  tails '  is  not  ignored,  but  to 
his  list  De  la  Porte  appends  the  charitable  note :  '  Les 
Anglois  sont  beaux  et  bien  proportionnez,  hardis  a  la  guerre, 
et  fort  bons  archers.  Le  peuple  n'aime  point  les  estrangers, 
et  est  autant  incivil  et  malgracieus  que  la  noblesse  est  cour- 
toise  et  affable.'  ^ 

Popular  ignorance  is  always  the  prey  of  a  false  patriotism. 
It  was  impossible  that  the  temper  of  the  Tudor  mob  should 
be  completely  purged  of  hostility  to  foreign  customs  and  to 
foreign  ideas.  Travelled  Englishmen  of  cultivation  were 
themselves  known  frankly  to  admit  that  their  country  was 
barbarous,  its  manners  rude,  and  its  people  uncivil.  But 
however  deeply  the  insular  prejudice  was  rooted  in  the 
heart  of  the  common  people,  there  is  consolation  in 
the  reflection  that  the  Tudor  mind  at  its  best  was 
singularly  free  from  the  narrowness  of  national  separatism. 
The  Tudor  mind  at  its  best  had  in  it  a  power  of  re- 
ceptivity, an  assimilative  capacity  which  ultimately  purified 
it  of  much  of  its  native  grossness  and  adapted  its  native 
robustness    to    great    artistic     purpose.       Tudor     literature 


'  Page  1 7.  To  the  Scotch,  De  la  Porte  apphes  the  following  list  of  descrip- 
tive epithets  (p.  92b):  'Nobles,  vaillans,  fiers,  blonds,  hautains,  septen- 
trionaus,  prompts,  guerriers,  enuieus,  brusques,  farouches,  beaux,  actifs.' 
There  is  added  the  note  :  '  Ce  peuple  est  beau  de  visage  et  bien  fait  de 
corps,  mais  malpropre  et  peu  soigneus  de  se  vestir  et  parer  honneste- 
ment,  soudain  en  ses  actions,  farouche  et  vindicatif,  puissant,  robuste, 
et  courageus  en  guerre,  faisant  grande  parade  de  sa  noblesse.' 


SHAKESPEARE  AND  FOREIGN  INFLUENCi:   6i 

caught  light  and  heat  from  France,  or,  through  France, 
from  Athens  and  Rome  and  modern  Italy.  Sixteenth- 
century  France  interpreted  to  sixteenth-century  England 
Greek  and  Italian  culture  and  ideas  in  much  the  same 
way  as  in  the  eighteenth  century  France  interpreted  Eng- 
land's ideas  to  Germany.  France  was  the  chief  refining 
agent  in  Tudor  society.  She  did  much  to  liberalize  Tudor 
thought. 

Some  contemporary  English  observers  whose  temperament, 
In  spite  of  education,  exposed  them  to  gusts  of  insular 
jealousy  of  the  foreigner,  expressed  a  fear  that  subservience 
to  French  or  Italian  example  might  hamper  the  evolution 
of  the  national  genius.  The  typical  Elizabethan  scholar^" 
Gabriel  Harvey,  when  he  noticed  Cambridge  undergraduates 
steeping  their  minds,  contrary  to  academic  regulations,  in 
current  literature  of  France  and  Italy,  was  impulsively  moved 
to  the  harsh  hexameter : 

O  times,  O  manners,  O  French,  O  Italish  England.^ 
The  lament  was  short-sighted.  The  national  genius  was 
absorbing  the  most  healthful  sustenance.  All  that  w^as  best 
in  foreign  literature  was  needed  to  create  the  new  national 
expression  on  which  Shakespeare  set  the  final  seal.  The 
spirit  of  imitation  and  adaptation  was  well  alive  in  Shake- 
speare, his  mind  was  wTOught  upon  by  endless  modes  of 
thought  and  style,  but  his  creative  genius  refashioned  all  in 
a  new  mould,  and  his  achievement  must  needs  be  called 
national,  because  it  has  no  parallel  in  foreign  countries. 

^  Letterbook  of  Gabriel  Harvey,  1573-80,  f.  52  (Camden   Soc,   1884, 
P-  97). 


BOOK    II 

FRENCH    INFLUENCE    ON    ENGLISH 
LITERATURE   1500-1550 


French  Light  and  English  Gloom 

French  literature  of  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century 
has  an  abidinor  interest  in  the  way  alike  of  performance  and 
promise.  Contemporary  English  literature  makes  no  pre- 
tension to  equal  vitality.  Humanism  was  advancing  with 
sure  step  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  France.  A  golden 
age  of  scholarship  was  inaugurated  there.  In  vernacular 
literature  the  influence  of  the  past  was  still  powerful,  even  if  the 
archaic  tendencies  were  scoring  their  final  victories.  In  poetry 
the  old  Gallic  tradition,  which  Villon  had  lately  glorified, 
acquired  a  fresh  charm  at  the  hand  of  Clement  Alarot,  whose 
buoyancy  and  versatility  were  but  lightly  tinged  by  classical 
and  Italian  colour.  The  Graeco -Italian  spirit  was  on  the 
point  of  refashioning  French  poetry,  but  it  had  not  yet 
acquired  strength  or  fervour.  The  mediaeval  temper  was  not 
yet  exorcised. 

In  prose,  forces  of  the  past  were  also  assertive.  Rabelais, 
who  was  endowed  with  the  most  liberal  intellio-ence  of  the 
epoch,  sought  to  fuse  the  unregenerate  turbidity  of  a  former 
era  with  the  best  enlightenment  of  the  present  and  future.  But, 
outside  the  bounds  of  poetry,  a  new  dispensation  was  already 
in  being.  \\'hile  Rabelais  was  still  jovially  blending  simples  1 
old  and  new,  Calvin  was  austerely  purging  French  prose 
of  the  old-fashioned  cloudiness  of  thought  and  phraseology, 
and  was  steadily  seeking  a  logical  precision  of  utterance, 
which  should  initiate  a  style  of  vernacular  writing  new  not 
only  to  France  but  to  Europe. 

Just  as  the  half-century  closed,  Ronsard  and  his  friends  of 
the  Pleiade  judicially  pronounced  the  GaUic  tradition  of  th^ 
past  to  be  a  relic  of  barbarism.  The  year  1550  just  stopj 
short  of  the  finest  development,  the  greatest  triumph,  of  the 


66  FRENCH    INFLUENCE    1500-1550 

French  literature  of  the  Renaissance.  At  the  moment 
Ronsard  (1524-85)  had  just  committed  himself  to  the  cause  of 
drastic  reform.  He  had  offered  no  proof  of  power  to  give 
the  new  plea  effect,  but  he  was  on  the  eve  of  his  conquest  of 
the  French  Parnassus.  Montaigne  (1533-92)  plays  a  part  no 
less  heroic  than  that  of  Ronsard  on  the  stage  of  the  French 
Renaissance  ;  he  was  a  boy  of  seventeen  in  the  sixteenth 
century's  midmost  year.  The  new  light  had  dawned,  and  the 
noontide  was  quickly  approaching. 

In  England  there  was  no  such  sustained  intellectual  or 
literary  activity,  no  such  imminent  capture  of  the  final 
goal.  The  flashes  of  scholarship  in  early  Tudor  England 
kindled  no  achievement  of  the  first  rank.  There  was  a 
fleeting  radiance  in  the  poetry  of  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  in  which 
Itahan  inspiration  mingled  with  French,  but  the  glow  of 
Marot's  poetic  versatility  was  not  matched  in  England.  The 
ingenious  graces  and  finished  harmonies  of  the  school  of 
Ronsard  when  it  was  leaving  its  state  of  pupilage  in  France, 
had  no  contemporary  counterpart  across  the  channel.  Nor 
was  there  in  English  prose  any  blustering  championship  of 
humanism  to  challenge  comparison  with  Rabelais's  chronicle 
of  Pantagruel.  Translation  of  more  conventional  specimens 
of  French  mediaeval  literature  constitutes  the  chief  exploits  in 

1  English  prose  of  Rabelais's  era.  An  Englishman,  Sir  Thomas 
More,  made  one  prose  endeavour  of  supreme  originality  in 
his  Utopia.  But  in  a  comparative  survey  of  literature  More's 
masterpiece  prompts  a  paradoxical  reflection.  The  work  was 
written  not  in  English,  but  m  Latin ,  and  England  showed  no 
sign  of  appreciating  its  imaginative  and  speculative  virtues  at 
their  true  rate  until  she  slowly  learnt  their  value  from  con- 

/  tinental  criticism.  More's  political  and  social  essay  is  the 
only  fruit  of  an  English  pen,  which  during  the  sixteenth 
century  left  its  impress  on  the  contemporary  thought  of 
Europe.  But  neither  the  English  language  nor  English 
appreciation  helped  the  venture  to  its  influence.  Its  recognition 
was  due  to  foreign  scholarship  and  foreign  insight.  More's 
Utopia  fanned  no  flame  of  culture  in  the  country  of  its  author 
until  at  least  two  younger  generations  had  run  their  course. 


THE   OXFORD   HUMANISTS  67 

In  the  ye^ir  1550,  when  France  was  bright  with  literary- 
fire,  vernacular  literature  in  England  was  suffering-  eclipse. 
Such  literary  energy  as  flung  a  tempered  or  a  muffled  light 
on  the  previous  half-century  appeared  to  be  exhausted.  The 
middle  years  of  the  century  form  in  l{nglish  literary  annals 
a  period  of  melancholy  gloom  which  looked  incapable  of 
dispersal.  Verse  sank  to  the  level  of  doggerel.  Prose 
rarely  rose  above  pedestrian  dullness.  The  literary  voice 
seemed  to  be  dumb.  The  literary  atmosphere  appeared  to 
be  a  smoky  and  sterilized  '  congregation  of  vapours '.  The 
only  hopeful  sign  was  an  unqualified  acknowledgement,  in 
circles  where  literary  and  scholarly  ambition  still  breathed, 
that  foreign  example  was  pointing  the  way  to  better  things. 


II 

First  Gleams  of  Tudor  Humanism 

There  is  ground  for  treating  the  literary  stagnation  of  mid- 
sixteenth-century  England  as  an  abnormal  instance  of  arrested 
development.  The  course  of  events  pointed  at  one  moment 
to  a  different  and  more  exhilarating  issue.  At  the  end  of  the 
fifteenth  century  there  was  sign  in  England  of  a  national 
humanist  revival.  In  that  movement,  which  promised  better 
than  it  performed,  three  Oxford  men,  Colet,  Linacre,  and 
More,  took  the  lead. 

Before  the  sixteenth  century  opened,  Linacre  and  Colet,  with 
half  a  dozen  other  Oxford  scholars,  visited  Italy  and  F'rance. 
They  eagerly  studied  Greek,  and  awoke  some  enthusiasm 
for  the  new  learning  in  England.  England  seemed  actively 
to  be  seeking  affiliation  with  the  European  confederacy  of 
humanism.  Indeed,  Linacre  and  More  personally  played 
distinguishable  parts  in  the  European  drama  of  culture.  But 
there  were  limitations  in  these  Oxford  scholars'  intellectual 
affinities  and  ambitions.  The  merely  aesthetic  side  of  literature 
or  scholarship  scarcely  moved  them.  They  were  no  apostles 
of  the  Muses,  who  sought  to  dispel  intellectual  darkness  with 

F  2 


68  FRENCH   INFLUENCE    1500  1550 

the  torch  of  poetry  and  imaginative  enthusiasm.  More  was 
better  endowed  with  the  Hterary  instinct  than  his  associates ; 
he  dehghted  in  the  Greek  anthology,  and  brought  a  literary 
I  touch  to  illumine  social  speculation ;  yet  his  main  interests 
were  absorbed  by  political  economy  and  theology.  Linacre 
was  fascinated  by  the  inquiries  of  Aristotle  and  other  Greek 
investigators  into  natural  science ;  he  finally  concentrated  his 
attention  on  the  study  of  Greek  medicine,  and  gained 
continental  fame  by  a  translation  into  Latin  of  the  work  of 
Galen,  the  Greek  medical  writer.  At  home  he  is  chiefly 
remembered  as  the  founder  of  the  English  College  of 
Physicians.  His  friend  Colet's  zeal  for  educational  reform 
Was  more  vividly  coloured  by  the  genuine  spirit  of  the 
Renaissance.  Under  the  spell  of  the  new  learning,  Colet 
founded  St.  Paul's  School  in  London  for  the  study  of  Greek 
as  well  as  of  Latin,  but  his  intellectual  affinity  was  mainly  with 
scholastic  philosophy  and  with  Neo- Platonic  mysticism.  These 
Oxford  pioneers  won  noble  personal  triumphs  in  special 
fields  of  culture.  Yet  none  of  their  eminent  individual 
achievements  stimulated  a  national  striving  after  literary  per- 
fection, or  a  national  outburst  of  poetic  sentiment.  They  set 
flowing  no  irresistible  tide  of  intellectual  or  literary  energj"-. 
They  failed  to  sweep  the  country  into  the  broad  continental 
flood  of  liberal  culture,  even  if  they  deserve  the  credit  of 
building  on  English  soil  one  or  two  outworks  of  that  intel- 
lectual empire  which  ruled  beyond  the  seas. 

Foreign  impulses  moved  these  early  Tudor  scholars. 
Italian  influence  wrought  primarily  on  them.  Most  of  them 
sojourned  in  youth  in  Plorence  and  Venice.  France,  however, 
chiefly  gave  their  aspirations  coherent  shape  and  substance. 
On  their  way  home  from  Italy,  Colet  and  Linacre  paused 
at  Paris,  and  there  they  came  into  touch  with  the  two  men 
who  set  the  seal  on  the  humanist  development  of  Europe. 
Linked  together  by  ties  of  close  friendship,  these  two  men, 
whose  names  are  familiar  in  the  classicized  forms  of  Budaeus 
aruUErasmus,  exercised  a  sovereignty  in  European  scholarship 
which  was  unquestioned  through  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth 
century.     The  first  runnings  of  the  Renaissance  stream   in 


BUDAEUS  69 

England  were  mainly    tributary   to  the   work  of  these  two 
foreign  masters. 

The  chief  fact  in  the  history  of  humanism  in  the  early  part 
of  the  century  is  that  Erance  became  the  European  centre  of 
scholarship.  Italy,  which  first  introduced  modern  liurope  to 
Greek  literature,  yielded  to  Erance  her  place  as  apostle  of 
classical  and  notably  of  Greek  culture.  Primarily  associated 
with  the  triumph  of  Erance  is  Guillaume  Bude,  or  Budaeus 
(1467-1540),  who  from  his  twenty-fourth  year  devoted  himself 
with  an  absorbing  passion  to  the  cause  of  the  new  learning. 
As  a  teacher  in  the  University  of  Paris  he  founded  Greek 
scholarship  for  modern  Europe  in  the  early  days  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  and  subsequently  acquired  European  fame 
as  an  author,  not  merely  on  Greek  philology,  but  on 
Roman  law,  numismatics,  and  education.  While  librarian  to 
Erancis  I,  he  formed  a  noble  collection  of  Greek  manuscripts, 
and,  after  long  years  of  controversy,  he  induced  the  king  to 
establish  the  College  de  Erance  for  the  promotion  of  the 
scholarly  study  of  Greek,  Hebrew^  and  Latin,  by  way  of 
a  liberalizing  counterpoise  to  the  conservative  Sorbonne. 
Eud^eus-wrote  as  ably  in  Erench  as  in  the  learned  tongues. 
In  his  own  language  he  penned  his  Institution  du  PHiice, 
which  he  dedicated  to  his  royal  patron,  while  King  Erancis  I 
was  a  youth  of  two-and-twenty.^  There  the  scholar 
preaches  the  enlightened  doctrine  that  a  king  should  be  a 
philosopher  and  a  man  of  learning ;  he  asserts  the  superiority 
of  Greek  over  Latin  as  a  means  of  culture,  and  insists  on  the 
importance  of  the  study  of  history  as  well  as  of  philology. 
Budaeus 's  repute  finally  rested  on  his  discursive  Commentaru 
linguae  Graecae,  a  commentary  on  the  Greek  language  which 
is  a  standard  contribution  to  classical  literature.  It  first 
interpreted  the  Greek  language  systematically  and  on 
scholarly  lines.  According  to  Sir  Richard  Jebb,  Budaeus, 
however  inferior  in  literary  genius  to  Erasmus,  his  intimate 
friend  and  only  rival,  w^as  a  greater  scholar  and  more  learned 
man.      The     highest     testimony     to     Budaeus's     eminence^ 

^  Though  written  in  15 16,  Budaeus's  Instituiion  was  not  pubhshed  till 
1546. 


70  FRENCH    INFLUENCE   1 500-1 550 

was   given    by    his    younger    contemporary,    Calvin,    who 

/  saluted  him  as  '  the  foremost   glory   and   support  of  litera- 

/  ture,  by  whose  service  our  France  claims  for  itself  to-day 

(    the  palm  of  erudition '.     French   poets  paid  in  their  native 

tongue  no  less  enthusiastic  tributes  to  the  man  whom  they 

reckoned   the   greatest  in   reputation  for  learning  of  every 

kind.^ 

This  verdict  was  accepted  with  acclamation  in  England  by 

the  pioneers  of  the  Renaissance.    Only  one  of  Linacre's  letters 

survives,  and  that,  half  in  Greek  and  half  in  Latin,  is  a  tribute 

of  admiration  addressed  by  him  to  Budaeus.     More  was  an 

unswerving  worshipper,  and  he  owed  to  Budaeus  the  most 

encouraging  appreciation  which  his   Utopia  received  in  its 

j  early  days.    More  s  contemporary,  Sir  Thomas  Elyot,  was  one 

I   of  the  earliest  English  disciples  of  Budaeus's  Greek  scholar- 

"    ship,  and  he  declared  that  the  Frenchman's  commentaries  '  first 

offered  an  exact  trial  [i.  e.  elucidation]  of  the  native  sense  of 

[Greek]  words '.    From  the  hand  of  Budaeus  English  scholars, 

like  continental  scholars,  received  the  key  which  opened  the 

treasury  of  Greek  letters. 

More  direct  and  obvious  than  the  influence  of  Budaeus  on 
the  transient  dawn  of  English  humanism  was  that  of  Erasmus 
I  (1466-1536),  who,  although  a  Dutchman,  mainly  developed  in 
Paris  his  scholarly  genius.  His  alert  and  inspiring  personality 
is  chiefly  responsible  for  the  best  fruit  of  the  humanist  enlighten- 
ment all  over  Europe.     With  the  Oxford  pioneers  of  Renais- 

^  Some  of  the  Latin  elegies  on  the  great  man's  death  (in  1540)  were 
rendered  into  EngHsh  by  poetasters,  whose  veneration  was  character- 
istically masked  by  a  barbaric  uncouthness  of  utterance.  Compare,  for 
example : 

All  men  bewailed  Budaeus  death  ; 

the  air  did  also  moan ; 
The  brawling  brooks  eke  wept,  because 

Budaeus  good  was  gone. 
So  men  did  wail,  that  everywhere 

were  papers  printed  seen 
Of  verses,  threnes,  and  epitaphs, 
full  fraught  with  tears  of  teen. 
Flowers  of  Epigra)>imes,  by  Timothe  Kendall,   1577  (Spenser  Society, 
1874,  pp.  70-1).     Kendall  here  translates  one  of  the  many  elegies  on 
Budaeus  by  the  humanist  disciple  of  Calvin,  Theodore  Beza.     Cf.  Beza's 
Juvenilia,  ed.  Machard,  1879,  P-  60. 


ERASMUS  71 

sance  culture,  his  relations  were  continuous  and  close,  and  their  \ 
debt  to  him  scarcely  admits  of  exaggeration.     Colet  first  met 
Erasmus  at  Paris  at  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century,  when  the 
Dutch   scholar   was   acting  as    tutor   to    a    young    English 
nobleman,   William  Rlount,  Lord  Mountjoy.     Erasmus  was 
staying  in  an  English  boarding-house  in  the  French  capital. 
It  was  after  Colet's  introduction  to  him  in  Paris  that  Erasmus 
first  visited  England,  at  the  invitation  of  his  noble  English 
pupil.     Henceforth  P^ngland  was  his  frequent  home,  and  he  I 
amply  rewarded  her  hospitality  by  the  intellectual  impulse  [ 
which    he    exerted    on   his   hosts.     Erasmus  was    a   brilliant 
critic  of  life   as  well  as  of  letters,  and  he  caught  from  his 
Parisian  experience  a  Gallic  blitheness,  some  touch  of  which 
he  communicated   to    Sir   Thomas   More,  the  most  warmly  ' 

attached  of  all  his  English  disciples.      To   Erasmus's  eager      i*'^'^ 
enthusiasm  and  social  charm,  and   to   the    solid    virtues    of 
Budaeus's  learning,  is  due  most  of  the  fruitfulness  which  can 
be  allowed  early  Tudor  humanism. 

Probably  the  greatest  service  that  Erasmus  rendered  to  the 
intellectual  renown  of  England  was  the  stimulus  that  his  friend- 
ship offered  the  genius  of  Colet's  Oxford  friend,  Sir  Thomas 
More.  More  is  by  far  the  greatest  figure  in  the  intellectual 
history  of  early  Tudor  England.  But  his  association  with  the 
vernacular  literature  of  the  secular  kind  is  too  small  to  give  him 
prominence  in  the  history  of  the  written  language.  The 
secular  verse  and  the  polemical  theology  which  he  penned  in 
his  native  tongue  have  claims  to  the  attention  of  students  of 
popular  speech  and  of  popular  taste,  but  they  have  not  the 
supreme  touch  of  style  and  inventiveness,  which  makes  for 
vital  or  permanent  influence. 

More  s  political  and  social  romance  of  Utopia  stands  on  a 
different  footing.  It  does  not  strictly  belong  to  English 
literature,  for  it  was  written  in  Latin.  Although  its  topics  lie 
outside  the  aesthetic  field,  it  interprets  with  such  imaginative 
faculty  most  of  the  social  and  political  ideals  of  the  European 
Renaissance,  that  only  a  thin  line  separates  it  from  pure 
literature.  A  destructive  criticism  of  the  social  abuses  of  the  | 
old  regime  prefaces  illuminating  proposals  for  the  regeneration 


2  FRENCH    INFLUENCE    ir^oo-1550 

,  and  reconstruction  of  society.  Cultivation  of  the  intellect, 
religious  toleration,  civil  liberty,  high  levels  of  physical  well- 
being,  are  the  watchwords  of  More's  social  reformation. 

Mores  work  has  varied  foreign  affinities.  The  speculative 
temper  is  coloured  alike  by  Plato's  Republic^  and  by  vague 
I  reports  of  aboriginal  polity  which  had  reached  the  writer  from 
the  discoverers  of  the  New  World.  France  can  only  claim  in- 
direct influence  in  its  composition.  Yet  it  was  while  More  was 
engaged  on  diplomatic  business  at  Antwerp,  where  French 
was  the  language  of  official  circles,  it  was  while  he  was 
talking  in  French  with  a  Portuguese  sailor  who  had  voyaged 
to  America,  that  More's  alert  imagination  conceived  his  new 
ideal  of  society. 

More's  Utopia  came  into  being  as  a  contribution  to 
European  rather  than  to  English  literature.  The  greater 
part  was  penned  in  a  foreign  country.  It  was  developed  after 
the  great  Dutch  apostle  of  humanism  had  delivered  his  message 
to  its  author.  In  no  other  work  from  an  English  pen  is  the 
effect  of  Erasmus's  airy  insight,  playful  sarcasm,  and  en- 
lightened humanity  more  clearly  visible.  It  was,  too,  on  the 
Continent  and  not  in  England  that  the  Utopia  found  its 
welcome. 

Renaissance  teaching  had  not  yet  permeated  English 
sentiment,  despite  the  efforts  of  Linacre  and  Colet.  The 
fortunes  of  More's  Utopia  show  that  England,  despite  the 
endeavours  of  the  Oxford  pioneers,  set  small  store  by  the 
stirring  humanist  revelation  which  her  own  son  offered  her. 
[  The  first  edition  of  the  romance  was  printed  at  Lou  vain  with 
I  \  the  commendations  of  foreign,  but  of  no  English,  scholars.  It 
was  quickly  re-issued  at  Paris  with  an  attractive  epistle  of 
kindly  appreciation  from  the  scholar  Budaeus,  which  was 
addressed  to  a  young  English  pupil,  a  graduate  of  the 
University  of  Paris,  Thomas  Lupset.^  To  Budaeus's  gene- 
rous preface  the  work  chiefly  owed  its  continental  vogue. 
Edition  after  edition  in  the  original  Latin  came  from  the 
Continental  presses.     No  English  printer  handled  the  Latin 

'  The  young  Englishman,  a  protege  of  Colet  and  an  enthusiastic  student 
of  the  New  Learning,  supervised  the  proofs. 


MORE'S    UTOPIA    IN   FRANCE  73 

text  till  the  Oxford  Press  produced  an  edition  in  1663,  nearly  1 
150  years  after  its  first  publication. 

Nor  was  ]^2nglish,  the  native  languao-e  of  the  author,  the  \ 
first  vernacular  into  which  the  work  was  translated.  It  was  l 
a  French  version  which  first  popularized  More's  speculations. 
The  F>ench  rendering-  preceded  any  l^nglish  rendering-  by 
at  least  a  year.  The  priority  of  F>ance  in  this  regard  needs 
no  recondite  explanation.  The  Utopia  had  a  closer  affinity 
with  F^rench  intellectual  progress  than  with  English.  In  her 
association  with  More's  Utopia  France,  too,  was  true  to  her 
role  of  agent-general  for  European  culture.  The  great 
FVench  scholar  Budaeus  may  be  said  to  have  rendered 
England  as  well  as  F^urope  the  serv^ice  of  interpreting  the 
significance  of  More's  philosophy.  The  anonymous  F'rench 
translator  of  1549,  and  the  Parisian  bookseller,  Charles 
Angelier,  who  in  1550  circulated  More's  Latin  in  modern 
speech,  may  be  credited  with  giving  the  unscholarly  world 
the  first  opportunity  of  studying  at  first  hand  More's  social 
and  political  gospel.^  France  efficiently  relieved  More's  Utopia 
of  the  risk  of  oblivion  to  which  F^nglish  blindness  exposed  it. 

The  paradoxical  features  which  attach  to  the  early  fate  of 
More's  Utopia  pass  beyond  the  confines  of  bibliography. 
The  cold  neglect  of  the  book  at  home,  and  the  magnetic  force 
which  it  exerted  abroad,  receive  graphic  illustration  in  the 
most  characteristic  literature  of  the  early  days  of  the  French 
Renaissance.  Not  only  was  More's  Utopia  printed  in  Paris 
in  the  original  Latin;  not  only  was  it  eulogized  by  foreign 
scholars ;  not  only  was  it  translated  into  FVench  before 
England  gave  any  sign  of  recognition,  it  was  also  read  and 


'  The  terms  of  the  title  of  the  French  translation  are  interesting :  '  La-. 
Description  de  I'isle  d'Vtopie  ou  est  comprins  le  miroer  des  republicques 
du  monde,  et  I'exemplaire  de  vie  heureuse  redige  par  escript  en  stille  tres 
elegant  de  grand'haultesse  et  maieste  par  illustre  bon»et  scaieaf^*  per- 
sonnage  Thomas  Moms  citoycn  de  Londre  ik.  chancelier  d'Angleterre. 
Avec  I'Epistre  liminaire  composee  par  Monsieur  Bude  maistre  des 
requestes  du  feu  Roy  Frangoys  premier  de  ce  nom.  .  .  .  Les  semblables 
sont  \  vendre  au  Palais  ;\  Paris  au  premier  pillier  de  la  grand'Salle  en  la 
Bouticque  de  Charles  Angelier  devant  la  Chapelle  de  Messieurs  les 
Presidens.'  1550.  The  volume  opens  with  a  publishing  licence  of  the 
Parlement  of  Paris  dated  14  Nov.  1549. 


I 


74     "  FRENCH   INFLUENCE    1500- 1550  7r.^rM^ 

assimilated  by  the  most  notable  prose-writer  and  most  advanced 
thinker  of  the  early  days  of  the  French  Renaissance — by 
Rabelais.     And  that  at  an  hour  when  More  was  barely  known 

"""to  his  own  countrymen  save  in  his  secondary  and  conflicting- 
role  of  an  heroic  martyr  of  reaction.  Special  attention  is  due  to 
the  evidence  of  familiarity  with  More's  book  which  Rabelais 
offers  in  his  buoyant  story  of  Gargantua  and  of  Gargantua's 
son  Pantagruel,  because  it  is  a  new  fact  in  the  comparative 
study  of  French  and  English  literature,  and  one  without 
precise  parallel  in  the  period  which  we  are  surveying. 

I  Readers  of  Rabelais  may  remember  how  the  giant  Pantagruel 
learns  that  the  decadent  nation  of  the  Dipsodes  had  invaded 
a  country  of  enlightenment,  which   bore  the  name  Utopia, 

_and  that  the  chief  city  of  Utopia,  which  is  called  by  Rabelais 
'  the  city  of  the  Amaurots  ',  was  threatened  by  the  Dipsodes 
with  assault.  According  to  the  story,  the  giant  straightway 
undertakes  the  defence  of  the  Utopians.  Rabelais's  island  of 
Utopia^mth  '  the  great_city  of  the  Amaurots  ',  comes  straight 
from  More  s  romance.  The  names  are  of  More's  invention.^ 
Rabelais  devotes  four  chapters  to  Pantagruel's  warfare  with 
the  nation  of  the  Dipsodes  in  behalf  of  Utopia  and  its 
inhabitants.  We  learn  that  the  giant,  after  taking  prisoner 
Anarchus,  the  rebel  king  of  the  Dipsodes,  transports  into  the 
conquered  land  of  Dipsody  a  colony  of  Utopians  to  the  number 
of  9,876,543,210  men,  women,  and  children,  'besides  artificers 
of  all  trades  and  professors  of  all  sciences,  in  order  to  people, 
cultivate,  and  improve  '  the  degenerate  country. 

Utopia  stands  in  the  sight  of  Rabelais  for  the  perfect  state. 
There  the  golden  age  was  renewed  as  it  was  in  the  time  of 
Saturn  ;  and  with  some  wise  remarks  on  the  problems  of 
colonization,  which  oddly  contrast  with  many  grotesque  and 
offensive  details  of  the  near  context,  Rabelais  brings  to  a  close 
the  account  of  the  colonization  of  Dipsody  by  the  Utopians.^ 

'  Prof.  Abel  Lefranc,  in  Les  Navigatiotis  de  Patifas^rucl :  etude  siir  la 
geograpliie  rabelaisienne  (Paris,  1905),  while  pursuing  a  different  line  of 
inquiry,  was  the  first  to  call  attention  to  Rabelais's  mdebtedness  to  More's 
Utopia. 

^  The  story  of  Pantagruel's  relations  with  Utopia  and  the  city  of  the 
Amaurots  begins  in  Chapter  23  of  Rabelais's  second  book,  and  is  con- 


RARRLAIS'S    DEBT   TO   MORE  75 

Rabelais  makes  a  serious  appeal  to  the  colonists  of  a  new 
country  to  abandon  the  erroneous  opinion  of '  some  tyrannical 
spirits '  that  the  natives  should  be  plundered  and  '  kept  in 
awe  Avith  rods  of  iron  '.  For  the  force  of  arms  Rabelais  would 
substitute  '  affability,  courtesy,  gentleness,  and  liberality  ',  so 
that  the  conquered  people  may  learn  to  live  well  under  good 
laws.  '  Nor  can  a  conqueror,'  argues  Rabelais  in  the  precise 
vein  of  vSir  Thomas  More,  '  reign  more  happily,  whether  he 
be  a  monarch,  emperor,  king,  prince,  or  philosopher,  than  by 
making  his  justice  to  second  his  valour.  His  valour  shows 
itself  in  victory  and  conquest ;  his  justice  will  appear  in  the 
goodwill  and  affection  of  the  people  when  he  maketh  laws, 
publisheth  ordinances,  establisheth  religion,  and  doth  what 
is  right  to  every  one.' 

Rabelais  is  at  one  with  More  at  many  other  points  of  his 
humane  polity.  Their  views  in  matters  of  education  and  of 
toleration  for  the  most  part  coincide.  The  grafting  of  the 
English  humanist's  far-sighted  speculation  on  the  French 
humanist's  disordered  and  farcical  comedy  of  life  is  something 
of  a  literary  curiosity.  The  isolated  episode  in  our  com- 
parative study  clearly  invests  More  with  the  proud  title  of 


tinued  in  Chapters  28  and  31,  closing  in  the  first  chapter  of  the  third 
book  with  Rabelais's  benevolent  remarks  on  the  duties  of  the  conquering 
colonist.  It  was  not  as  a  contribution  to  English  literature,  but  to  the 
continental  literature  of  the  Renaissance,  that  Rabelais  knew  the  Utopia. 
Rabelais  shows  small  knowledge  of,  or  interest  in,  England.  Two  refe- 
rences, however,  suggest  that  English  and  Scottish  students  were  familiar 
figures  in  the  academic  society  in  France  which  Rabelais  frequented. 
In  Book  II,  Chapter  9,  Pantagruel's  companion,  Panurge,  cites  a  barely 
intelligible  sentence  on  the  inequality  of  the  rewards  of  virtue,  which  he 
pretends  to  be  in  English.  It  is  clearly  Lowland  Scotch  derived  from 
some  Scotch  student  in  Paris.  (See  Prof.  Ker  on  '  Panurge's  English' 
in  Aji  English  Miscellany,  presented  to  Dr.  Furnivall,  Oxford,  1901, 
pp.  196-8.)  In  succeeding  chapters  of  Rabelais's  second  book  (chaps. 
18-20)  there  is  a  farcical  account  of  a  disputation  conducted  by  means 
of  pantomimic  signs  between  Panurge  and  a  vainglorious  English 
scholar  called  Thaumast.  The  latter  had  come  out  of  'the  very  heart 
of  England'  to  learn  in  France  the  secrets  of  philosophy.  Thaumast 
finally  admits  that  the  French  disputant  has  discovered  to  him  '  the  very 
true  well,  fountain,  and  abyss  of  the  encyclopedia  of  learning',  and 
promises  to  reduce  to  writing  and  to  print  the  story  of  his  experience. 
That  promise  was,  according  to  Rabelais,  duly  fulfilled  in  a  'great  book' 
'  imprinted  at  London  '. 


76   :■     /     FRENCH   INFLUP:NCE   1500-1550 

tthe  only  Jinglishman   who    made   in    his   day  a  substantial 
contribution  to  the  broad  stream  of  European  thought. 

More's  work  was  done  before  the  tide  of  European  en- 
lightenment had  effectively  stirred  the  intellectual  waters  of 
England.  Of  all  the  great  French  writers  of  the  epoch 
Rabelais  was  least  known  in  Tudor  England.  Although  there 
was  much  in  his  boisterous  frankness  and  intoxicated  fooling 
which  adumbrated  the  Elizabethan  spirit,  he  for  a  long 
period  escaped  the  observation  of  Englishmen.  The  ex- 
uberant sarcasm  of  some  late  Elizabethans,  like  Nashe, 
may  owe  something  to  him.  But  there  was  none  in  the 
England  of  his  own  day  to  appreciate  the  meaning  of  his 
deliverance  as  he  appreciated  the  meaning  of  Sir  Thomas 
More's  message,  Elizabethans  made  a  tardy  and  imperfect 
acknowledgement  of  kinship  with  Rabelais.  Their  fathers 
were  too  backward  in  their  study  of  humanism  to  spell  out 
his  alphabet. 

Ill 

French  Grammars  from  Tudor  Pens 

The  French  mind  under  the  early  impulse  of  the  Re- 
naissance was  sensitive  to  new  intellectual  or  imaginative 
suggestion  and  impression.  But  in  the  seed-time  of  the 
French  Renaissance,  in  the  epoch  of  Rabelais,  England  had 
no  fuel  outside  More's  Latin  prose  wherewith  to  feed  her 
neighbour's  literary  ardour.  France  was  seeking  foreign 
sustenance  elsewhere.  Writers  in  English  lacked  original 
inspiration,  and  literary  drudgery  satisfied  most  of  their 
ambitions.  Translation  from  the  French  mainly  occupied 
their  pens  ;  such  industry  could  be  no  more  than  a  domestic 
concern.  There  was  a  scanty  poetry,  which  was,  for  the  most 
part,  the  child  of  foreign  parents ;  to  foreign  observers  its 
dialect  seemed  inarticulate.  As  the  century  aged,  and  when 
the  impulse  of  the  Renaissance  dwindled  in  France,  the 
spirit  of  nationalism  grew  in  French  literature,  and  gradually, 
almost   imperceptibly,  assimilation  of  foreign  ideas  suffered 


THE   ENGLISH   GRAMMARIANS  77 

discouragement.  When  Elizabethan  poetry  reached  its  full 
flood,  French  literature  was  passing  through  a  phase  of  spent 
glory,  which  fostered  a  spirit  of  exclusiveness.  As  a  conse- 
quence Elizabethan  poetry  won  no  recognition  in  France. 
Had  the  literary  genius  of  the  English  Renaissance  blossomed 
half  a  century  earlier,  England  might  have  turned  the  tables 
on  France  in  the  way  of  literary  indebtedness. 

In  early  Tudor  days  the  humble  labours  of  translation  and 
homely  verse,  which  mainly  absorbed  English  literary  energy, 
were  occasionally  supplemented  by  experiments  in  grammar 
and  lexicography.  More  especially  did  Tudor  study  of  the 
French  tongue  issue  in  such  practical  exercises.  French 
receptivity  showed  here  no  unreadiness  to  accept  help 
from  English  hands.  Tudor  guidance  in  French  grammar 
was  welcomed  in  France.  But  when  we  close  the  page  of 
Mores  Utopia^  we  find  English  authorship  of  the  sixteenth 
century  offering  French  students  nothing  besides  the  Gibeon- 
Itlsh  service  of  hewer  of  grammatical  wood  or  drawer  of 
lexicographic  water.  In  all  other  fields  throughout  the 
period,  England  was  the  borrower  and  France  the  lender. 

The  story  of  the  French  grammars  of  Tudor  England  Is 
a  somewhat  depressing  pendant  to  the  episode  of  the  ad- 
ventures in  France  of  More's  Utopia.  But  the  two  Incidents 
have  the  common  characteristic  that  they  reverse  the  pre- 
vailing tendency  of  the  Anglo-French  literary  Intercourse 
and  put  England  In  the  place  of  creditor  instead  of  debtor. 
Grammar  was  an  honoured  study  In  the  circle  of  Colet  and 
his  friends.  Latin  grammars  of  Linacre  and  of  William  Lily, 
who  was  the  first  master  of  Colet's  foundation  of  wSt.  Paul's 
school,  acquired  a  foreign  as  well  as  a  domestic  vogue.  If 
they  are  elementary  and  not  wholly  original  efforts,  Linacre 's 
and  Lily's  grammars  displayed  a  methodical  simplicity  which 
recommended  them  to  teacher  and  pupil  at  home  and  abroad. 
Long  afterwards — In  the  last  quarter  of  the  sixteenth  century 
• — an  Englishman,  Edward  Grant,  head  master  of  ^^'estmInster 
School,  first  tried  his  hand  at  a  Greek  grammar  for  Enghsh 
boys  (1575),  and  this  endeavour  In  a  revised  version  by  Grant's 
successor  at  Westminster,  William  Camden  (1597),  achieved 


78  FRENCH   INFLUENCE    1500-1550 

a  wide   popularity.      But   the  most  remarkable   grammatical 
energy  of  Tudor  England  was  bestowed  on  the  French  lan- 
guage, and  it  was  there  that  English  energy  mainly  won  recog- 
nition in  France.    The  rooted  conviction  among  the  cultivated 
classes  of  Tudor  England  that  a  familiar  knowledge  of  French 
was  essential  to  refinement  found  emphatic  expression  in  a  series 
of  grammatical  compilations.    Caxton  published  some  French- 
English  dialogues.     Alexander  Barclay,  a  literary  journeyman 
whose  industry  was  mainly  displayed  in  translation,  compiled 
a  Fjrencli^English  grammar  as  early  as  152 1.    Barclay's  efforts 
to   reproduce   phonetically   French  pronunciation  is  of  im- 
portance to  the  study  of  English  and  French  phonetics  alike. 
For  our  present  purpose  the  value  of  Barclay's  Introductorie 
to   Write  and  Pronotmce  French  lies  in  the  testimony  that 
it  offers  to  the  Englishman's  reverence  for  French  speech. 
The  Englishman  seems  doubtful  of  his  competence  to  practise 
original  composition  in  his  native  language,  and  seeks  to  com- 
pensate his  defect  by  close  study  of  a  foreign  tongue.^ 
f   The  two  names  which  are  to  be  mainly  associated  with  the 
/Tudor  devotion  to   French  grammar  are  Giles  Devves   and 
(John  Palsgrave.     Palsgrave's  achievement  entitles  him  to  the 
respect   of  all   philologists,  and   confers   distinction   on  the 
slavish  toil  of  all  grammarians.     Dewes  seems  to  have  been 
a  Frenchman  who  came  here  to  teach  French  to  Henry  Mil, 
and  then  transferred  his  services  to  Henry  VIII's  daughter,  Mary 
Tudor.     For  the  princess  Mary  he  wrote  A  n  hitroduciorie 
for  to  learne  to  rede,  to  projwnnce,  and  to  speake  French 
trewly\  which  was  first  published  about  1528.    The  work  is 
short.    It  opens  with  rules  of  pronunciation.     A  grammatical 
section  follows  with  tables  of  conjugation.    The  last  part  con- 
sists of  letters  and  conversations  between  master  and  pupil, 
and  between  the  princess  Mary  and  members  of  her  household. 
These  French  and  English  dialogues  occasionally  touch  on 
public  affairs,   and   although   they   are   sparing   of  concrete 

^  It  is  curious  to  note  that  Robert  Copland,  the  printer  and  publisher, 
appended  to  Barclay's  French  grammar  that  translation  from  his  own 
pen  of  a  treatise  on  F^rench  dances  to  which  reference  has  been  made 
above  :  see  p.  52. 


PALSGRAVE'S  MAGNUM  OPUS  79 

information,  sug-i^est  by  way  of  compensation  tlie  formal  quaint- 
ness  of  contemporary  conversational  style  in  both  languages. 

Palsgrave's  work  is  iar  more  impressive.  An  Englishman, 
educated  at  Paris,  he  went  to  the  French  court  as  chaplain  of 
Henry  Vlll's  sister  Mary,  when  she  married  the  French  king 
Louis  XII.  But  his  life  was  mainly  spent  in  England  as 
tutor  to  pupils  of  good  birth,  among  whom  was  Henry  VIII's 
natural  son,  the  Earl  of  Richmond.  Humanism  sheds  some 
brightness  on  his  career.  He  was  a  familiar  figure  in  learned 
society,  and  claimed  friendly  intimacy  with  More  and  Erasmus. 
His  magJiiDii  opus^  which  he  entitled  L' Esclarcisseineiit  de 
la  langiie  fraii^oyse,  was  prepared  by  him  for  the  exclusive 
use  of  his  pupils,  and  he  deprecated  its  sale  to  any  one  else. 
The  volume,  the  first  sheets  of  which  were  printed  in  1530  by 
the  Norman  immigrant  Pynson,  startles  us  by  its  enormous  size. 
It  reaches  a  total  of  1 1 10  large  quarto  pages.  But  its  system- 
atized and  exhaustive  design  almost  justifies  the  remarkable 
bulk.  Palsgrave  makes  a  sustained  endeavour  to  compare  the 
idiom  and  grammatic  structure  of  the  two  languages.  Elabo- 
rate rules  are  devised  to  govern  every  French  inflection. 
The  conjugation  of  all  French  verbs,  according  to  their 
several  types,  is  set  out  in  full.  The  purposes  of  lexi- 
cography are  served  hardly  less  effectively  than  those  of 
grammar.  There  is  an  elaborate  French  vocabulary  with 
interpretations  in  English.  Great  stress  is  laid  on  the  correct 
pronunciation  and  the  correct  spelling  of  French.  Above  all 
is  it  to  be  noticed  that  illustrations  of  verbal  usage  are  liberally 
supplied  from  past  and  present  French  writers,  whose  repute 
stood  high  in  Palsgrave's  own  day.  His  survey  of  French 
literature  is  wide.  Citations  are  frequent  from  the  Roman 
de  la  Rose^  the  ample  fountain  of  almost  all  mediaeval 
allegory  ;  from  Alain  Chartier,  the  laureate  of  French  poetry 
and  prose  of  the  first  half  of  the  fifteenth  century  ;  and  from 
Le  Maire  des  Beiges,  the  popular  leader  of  that  prolific 
school  of  French  poetry  which  endeavoured,  early  in  the 
sixteenth  century-,  to  bind  the  new  spirit  of  the  Renaissance 
in  mediaeval  fetters.  Palsgrave,  by  way  of  epilogue,  expresses 
the  wish  that  '  the  nobility  of  this  realm  and  all  other  persons, 


8o  FRENCH   INFLUENCE    1 500-1 550 

of  whatever  estate  or  condition  soever  they  be,  may  by  the 
means  hereof  in  their  tender  age  the  sooner  attain  unto  a 
knowledge  of  the  French  tongue  '. 

The  point  best  worth  remembering  about  Palsgrave's 
massive  venture  is  that  nothing  quite  resembling  it  had 
been  undertaken  in  France.  He,  an  Englishman,  practically 
gave  the  French  people  rules  for  their  own  language. 
Palsgrave's  originality  has  been  fully  recognized  in  France. 
Tudor  England  set  up  one  monument  of  literary  drudgery 
w^iich  warrants  some  patriotic  exultation.  Not  only  can  it 
claim  a  genuinely  solid  merit,  but  it  drew  from  France  the 
paradoxical  acknowledgement  that  a  '  barbarous '  neigh- 
bour first  taught  her  the  grammatical  principles  of  her  own 
tongue.' 

IV 
The  Renaissance  Printers  of  France  and  England 

The  foremost  contribution  which  was  made  outside  Italy 
or  France  to  the  development  of  the  Renaissance  was  the 
German  invention  of  printing.  From  central  Europe  came, 
too,  rare^manifesTatTons  oT  artistic  genius  as  well  as  a  reforma- 
tion of  theological  principle  and  practice.  But  the  art  of 
typography  was  the  most  momentous  gift  that  Germany  made 
to  the  new  culture  of  Europe.  No  feature  in  the  intellectual 
history  of  this  period  can  compare  in  practical  interest  with 
the  progress  of  the  new  mechanical  contrivance,  which 
stimulated  literary  effort,  and  provided  means  of  distribut- 
ing literary  culture.  Far-reaching  differences  marked 
the  early  growth  of  printing  in  the  two  countries  of  France 
and  England,  and  much  significance  attaches  to  the  contrast. 
A  suggestive  light  is  thrown  on  the  intellectual  qualities  and 
tendencies  of  the  two  peoples  in  the  days  of  Colet  and  More, 
of  Budaeus  and  Rabelais,  by  a  summary  comparison  of  the 

'  Aj^eprint  in  889  quarto  pages  which  was  undertaken  in  J852  by  the 
government  of  Napoleon  III  does  ample  justice  to  Palsgrave's  ingenuity. 
The  editor  salutes  Palsgrave's  volume  as  the  only  complete  and  authentic 
inventory  of  the  French  language  of  the  compiler's  day. 


1 


THi":  FIRST  i'ri\ti:ks  in  1-RANCK  8i 

character,  work,  alms,  and  number  of  the  early  printers  of 
England  and  France. 

In  France  printing-  was  introduced  and  was  developed 
artistically  and  mechanically  by  men  of  learning.  The  pro- 
cess was  deliberately  fostered  as  an  instrument  of  scholarly 
culture.  The  distinction  to  be  drawn  between  the  history  of 
the  infant  presses  of  England  and  France  may  be  inferred 
from  such  primary  facts.  In  Paris  the  first  French  press  was\ 
set  up  by  two  professors  at  the  vSorbonne,  who  brought  from 
Germany  experts  in  the  newly  discovered  art  early  in  1470. 
The  craft  was  first  practised  within  the  precincts  of  the 
University.  The  Parisian  professors'  original  object  was  to 
reproduce  Latin  educational  manuals  for  their  pupils.  But  the 
elementary  bounds  of  the  academic  curriculum  were  quickly 
passed,  and  in  less  than  two  years  twenty-two  more  or  less 
substantial  volumes  had  been  issued,  including  (besides  school- 
books)  separate  works  of  Vergil,  Cicero,  and  Plato  (in  Latin), 
all  the  known  writings  of  Terence,  vSallust,  Juvenal,  and 
Persius,  and  two  contemporary  contributions  to  literature 
from  the  accomplished  pen  of  Aeneas  Sylvius,  who  was 
a  pioneer  of  learning  in  the  fifteenth  century,  and  ended  his 
career  as  Pope  Pius  11.^ 

The  invention  of  printing  instantly  fascinated  the  cultivated 
intelligence  of  F>ance.  Within  thirty  years  of  its  introduction 
a  mass  of  printed  literature  in  French  and  Latin  was  generally/ 
accessible, and  the  observer  is  amazed  by  its  vastness  and  variety.' 
Religious  service-books  and  educational  manuals  were  hardly 
more  abundant  in  the  closing  years  of  the  fifteenth  century  than 
Latin  classics,  both  in  the  original  and  in  translations,  and 
vernacular  prose  and  poetr}'.  Presses  multiplied  with  bewilder- 
ing rapidity,  not  only  in  Paris,  but  in  the  provinces.  At  the 
opening  of  the  sixteenth  century  eighty-five  presses  were  at 
work  in  the  capital  city,  and  thirty-eight  in  the  countiy  outside. 
The  owners  and  workers  of  these  numerous  presses  were  nearly 
all  scholars  and  men  of  letters.  Printing  was  formally  admitted 

'  The  First  Paris  Press.  An  account  of  the  books  printed  for  G.  Fichet 
and  J.  Heynlin  in  the  Sorbonne,  1470-2,  by  A.  Claudin  (BibHographical 
Society's  Publications,  1S98). 

LEE  G 


82  FRENCH    INFLUENCE    1500-1550 

at  the  dawn  of  the  French  Renaissance  into  the  circle  of  the 
learned  professions,  if  not  of  the  fine  arts. 

Throughout  the  sixteenth  century  French  typography 
retained  its  scholarly  and  lettered  associations.  The  demi- 
gods of  the  golden  age  of  French  scholarship  in  the  sixteenth 
century  were  printers.  Henri  Etienne  the  first,  Robert  Etienne 
his  son,  and  Henri  Titienne  the  second  his  grandson,  whose  sur- 
name took  on  English  lips  the  form  vStephens,  have  many  titles 
to  fame.  Their  careers  cover  the  whole  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
The  eldest  of  the  three  set  up  a  press  at  Paris  in  1501.  The 
son  and  grandson  edited  with  rare  acumen  the  chief  Greek 
and  Latin  texts  ;  they  compiled  Latin  and  Greek  dictionaries 
with  heroic  industry ;  they  criticized  current  literary  effort  in 
admirable  French  prose  ;  they  urged,  in  the  national  interest, 
high  ideals  and  ambitions  on  those  who  wrote  in  the  native 
tongue  of  France.  At  the  same  time  they  actively  shared  the 
labour  of  putting  manuscript  into  type  at  the  presses  which 
they  owned,  and  energetically  endeavoured  to  improve  the 
mechanical  details  and  artistic  temper  of  their  craft. 

The  Renaissance  fostered  the  association  of  typography 
wath  literature,  learning,  and  art  throughout  the  European  con- 
tinent. Nowhere  was  the  link  from  the  outset  so  tenacious  as 
in  France,  and  there  are  no  more  brilliant  examples  of  the 
alliance  than  the  three  generations  of  ^tiennes  supply  ;  yet  the 
;^tiennes  are  stars  in  a  French  galaxy  of  cultured  typographers. 
The  lieutenants  need  fear  no  comparisons  with  the  captains 
in  this  field.  The  eminent  bookseller  and  publisher  of  Paris, 
Geoffroy  Tory,  to  whose  artistic  skill  the  6tiennes'  press 
owed  many  of  its  aesthetic  improvements,  held  his  own  in  an 
almost  wider  region  of  culture.  Born  at  Bourges  about  1480, 
and  educated  in  Italy,  he  was  professor  of  philosophy  at 
Bordeaux  and  other  flourishing  universities  before  he  turned 
to  the  business  of  bookselling,  printing,  and  publishing  in 
Paris,  where  Francis  I  rewarded  his  efiiciency  by  conferring 
on  him  the  title  of  royal  printer.  At  Paris  he  not  only  showed 
a  fine  taste  in  the  choice  of  books  for  publication  and  in  the 
superintendence  of  the  typography,  but  he  cut  woodblocks 
with  his  own  hand  and  devised  illuminated  miniatures.    As  an 


THl^:  KTIlvNNKS  ANIJ  JJOLKT  83 

engraver  and  miniaturist  he  won  a  universal  repute.  Nor  do 
such  achievements  exhaust  Tory's  characteristic  record.  Tory- 
wrote  in  French,  and  illustrated  with  engravings  by  himself, 
an  encyclopaedic  volume  fancifully  entitled  ChaJtip-FIeiiry, 
in  which,  besides  expounding-  the  principles  and  practice  of 
typography,  grammar,  and  punctuation,  he  adjured  his  fellow 
countrymen  to  eschew  foreign  fashions  and  to  develop  national 
taste  and  habit  on  independent  lines.^ 

Again,  l^tienne  Dolet,  the  scjiolarj^rinter  of  Lyons,  com- 
bined, in  only  a  degree  less  than  Tory  or  the  Etiennes,  literary 
skill  and  enthusiasm  with  mechanical  and  mercantile  aptitude. 
His  scholarly  love  for  the  style  of  Cicero  led  him  to  trans-l 
late^Cicero's  works  into  French,  and  he  was  a  voluminous 
original  writer  alike  in  his  own  language  and  in  Latin.  Both 
Rabelais  and  Clement  Marot  honoured  him  with  their  friend- 
ship. Yet  the  most  effective  service  which  Dolet  rendered 
to  humanism  was  his  work_Qf,jjrinter  at  Lyojis  in  the  genera-' 
tion  succeeding  that  of  Tory,  and  he  sealed  his  renown  as  aj 
humanist  by  suffering  martyrdom  in  the  Place  Maubert  at  /S44> 
Paris  in  the  cause  of  freedom  of  opinion  and  of  the  press.^l 
The  French  Renaissance  printer  was  no  servant  nor  hireling 
of  current  culture,  literature,  and  opinion.  He  took  his  place 
among  the  leaders  and  masters  of  scholarship  and  thought. 
His  workshop  was  an  intellectual  arsenal  where  he  forged 
with  his  own  hand  weapons  of  light. 

Very  different  and  far  less  glorious  is  the  early  story  of 
printing  in  England.  The  contrast  illustrates  how  far  Tudor 
England  loitered  behind  France  in  her  intellectual  progress 
and  in  her  encouragement  of  culture.  William  Caxton  was  an  I 
Intelligent  silk-mercer  of  London,  whose  business  took  him  to  ' 
the  Low  Countries  before  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century. 
During  some  thirty  consecutive  years  he  traded  at  Bruges. 
There  he  learnt  French  and  took  pleasure  in  reading  French 

'  Tory's  Cltamp-F/eury,  which  does  not  compete  with  Palsgrave's 
treatment  of  French  grammar,  was  published  at  I'aris  in  1529— a  year 
before  Palsgrave's  book.     The  author  died  in  1533,  aged  53. 

^  R.  C.  Christie's  masterly  biography  of  Dolet  (2nd  edition,  1899) 
supplies  a  graphic  detailed  picture  of  the  character  and  achievements 
of  this  representative  scholar-printer  of  the  French  Renaissance. 

G  2 


^ 


84  FRENCH    INFLUENCP:    1500- 1550 

books  in  manuscript.  By  way  of  recreation  he  translated  with 
his  own  pen  a  French  mediaeval  chronicle  concerning  the  siege 
of  Troy.  This  literary  labour  he  began  at  Bruges  on  March  i, 
1468,  and  he  completed  it  on  September  19,  1471,  while  he 
was  staying  on  mercantile  business  at  Cologne.  That  city 
had  become  a  year  or  two  earlier  a  centre  of  typographic 
activity,  and  there  the  art,  which  was  of  German  origin, 
came  for  the  first  time  under  English  notice.  When  the 
mercer  returned  to  Bruges,  he  and  a  friendly  Fleming 
amused  their  leisure  by  putting  the  translation  into  type, 
and  it  was  published  at  Bruges  in  1476.  Thus  the  first 
English  book  to  appear  in  print  was  written  and  published 
abroad,  and  was  a  rendering  from  the  French.  The  title  lays 
\  stress  on  its  French  origin.^ 

Caxton  soon  repeated  his  experiment  on  English  soil.  He 
brought  from  the  continent  the  needful  apparatus  in  1477, and 
opened  a  press  in  Westminster  in  1478,  The  interval  between 
the  beginnings  of  French  and  English  printing  is  thus  in 
point  of  time  only  eight  years.  But  the  circumstances  attend- 
ing the  birth  of  the  art  in  the  two  countries  and  the  rates  of  its 
early  progress  lie  very  far  asunder.  In  France  printing  was 
deliberately  imported  from  Germany  with  a  view  to  facilitating 
the  growth  of  culture,  and  scholarship  took  control  of  its  opera- 
tions from  the  first.  For  England  it  came  into  being  as  the  pas- 
time of  an  English  trader  who  was  domiciled  abroad,  and  the 
seed  which  he  sowed  and  watered  in  his  own  country  developed 
slowly  and  inertly.  It  is  noticeable  that  Caxton  supplied  his 
press  with  much  'copy'  from  his  own  pen,  and  that  his  example 
was  followed  by  one  or  two  of  his  early  successors,  but  the 
English  printers'  literary  handiwork  was  confined  to  trans- 
lation from  French  prose  in  print  or  manuscript,  and  was 

'  The  title  runs  to  this  effect : — '  The  volume,  entitled  and  named  the 
Recueil  of  the  histories  of  Troy,  [was]  composed  and  drawn  out  of  divers 
books  of  Latin  into  French  by  the  right  venerable  person  and  worshipful 
man  Raoul  le  Fevre  .  .  .  which  said  translation  and  work  was  begun  in 
Bruges  in  the  county  of  Flanders  the  first  day  of  March  the  year  of  the 
Incarnation  of  our  Lord  God  a  thousand  four  hundred  sixty  and  eight, 
and  ended  and  finished  in  the  holy  city  of  Cologne  the  nineteenth  day  of 
September  the  year  of  our  Lord  God  a  thousand  four  hundred  sixty  and 
eleven.' 


CAXTON  85 

designed  for  popular  recreation  or  edification.  Scholarship 
had  smalMiand  in  superintending-  the  choice. 
~There  was  in  the  early  diffusion  of  English  typography,  too, 
a  constraint  to  which  France  offers  small  parallel.  By  the 
end  of  the  fifteenth  century  only  three  or  four  presses  had 
been  set  up  in  London,  and  all  save  Caxton's  were  small 
ventures  of  half-educated  foreign  mechanics.  A  German, 
independently  of  Caxton,  printed  a  [ew  books  at  Oxford  in 
Caxton's  day,  but  this  enterprise  came  to  an  early  end  and 
found  for  near  a  century  no  assured  successor.  The  history 
of  the  Oxford  University  Press  cannot  be  traced  further  back 
than  the  year  1585.^  Of  Cambridge  University  a  very 
similar  story  has  to  be  told  ;  there  a  visitor  from  Cologne 
first  printed  nine  or  ten  books  in  1521  and  1522,  but  no 
attempt  was  made  to  inaugurate  a  permanent  press  till  1582. 
An  English  schoolmaster  made  a  few  typographic  experiments 
at  St.  Albans  in  the  early  days.  It  was  only  in  London  that 
the  art  was  practised  from  the  fifteenth  century  without 
interruption. 

Even  in  the  English  metropolis,  the  scope  of  the  operations 
was  modest  when  they  are  compared  with  those  of  foreign 
centres.  Foreign  hands  guided  the  English  enterprise. 
Caxton's  chief  assistant,  Wynkyn  de  Worde,  who  came  from 
Alsace,  succeeded  to  his  master's  position  of  wellnigh  solitary 
eminence.  The  thin  ranks  of  London  printers  were  gradually 
reinforced  early  in  the  sixteenth  century  by  further  recruits 
from  Germany  and  the  Low  Countries.  Meanwhile  English 
typography  contracted  an  immense  debt  to  the  superior 
mechanical  and  literary  energy  of  the  French,  It  is  clear  thati 
in  one  or  two  cases  Caxton  had  his  books  set  up  in  Paris,  and 
was  the  importer,  and  not  the  manufacturer,  of  volumes  bearing 
his  trade-mark.  Of  like  significance  is  the  fact  that  the  '  copy  ' 
with  which  he  largely  fed  his  press  was  translations  by  him- 
self or  by  his  patrons  which  were  mainly  from  recently  printed, 

^  Cf.  F.  iMadan's  A  Chart  of  Oxford  Printing  (Bibliographical  Society's 
Monographs,  No.  XII),  1904,  and  his  Early  Oxford  Press,  1468-1640 
(Oxford  Historical  Society,  1895);  and  Robert  Kowes  and  (I.  J.  Cray, 
J.  Siberch  (the  fust  Cambridge  printer),  Cambridge,  1906. 


86  FRl^NCH    INFLUENCE    1500  1550 

/  French   literature.      It  is  not   therefore   surprising  to   learn 

(  that,  after  Wynkyn  de  Worde's  brief  reign,  the  successor  to 
Caxton  as  chief  London  printer  was  a  French  immigrant  into 

\^  England,  Richard  Pynson.  The  name  of  Pynson  looms  large 
in  the  annals  of  early  English  typography.  He  was  a 
Norman,  who  learnt  the  art  at  Rouen,  his  native  city.  Caxton 
ignored  the  texts  of  the  classics.  In  i^;^j_  Pynson  gave  the 
English  press  its  first  tinge  of  scholarship  by  printing  for 
the  first  time  in  England  a  Latin  classic.^  He  chose  the 
six  plays  of  Terence.  The  first  Paris  press,  a  quarter  of 
a  century  before,  had  rendered  France  the  identical  service. 
The  classical  tradition  which  distinguished  the  continental 
press  since  the  discovery  of  the  art  was  thus  leisurely 
inaugurated  in  England  by  a  Frenchman.  But  Pynson 
failed  to  graft  a  distinctive  note  of  scholarship  on  the  English 
efifort  in  typography.  To  the  Frenchman,  English  typo- 
graphy, however,  lies  under  a  substantial  obligation.  He 
was  the  first  royal  printer  in  England,  receiving  the  appoint- 
ment from  Henry  VIII  on  his  accession  in  1509.  Thus  in  his 
person  the  new  art  first  received  official  recognition.  Pynson 
introduced-  the  Roman  letter  '  in  place  of  the  ancient  Gothic  or 

t  '  black  letter  ',  beyond  which  Caxton  had  not  ventured.  But  in 
spite  of  Pynson's  skilful  embellishments  of  his  craft,  which  were 
generally  accepted  by  the  country  of  his  adoption,  the  superior 
cunning  and  activity  of  French  typographers  were  freely  ac- 
knowledged in  England  during  his  lifetime  and  long  afterwards. 
French  collaboration  was  very  slowly  driven  from  the  field  of 
Tudor  typography.  In  1538,  under  the  auspices  of  the  minister 
Cromwell,  a  complete  translation  of  the  Bible,  which  was 
known  as  the  Great  Bible,  was  prepared  for  authorized  use  in 
English  churches.  The  manuscript  seems  to  have  dismayed 
the  London  printers  by  its  bulk,  and  the  '  copy  '  was  sent  to 
Paris  to  be  set  up  in  a  printing  office  there.  Though  the 
French  government  intervened  and  hindered  the  completion 
of  the  undertaking,  the  French  type  and  presses  were  trans- 
ferred to  London.  The  finished  volume — the  greatest  monu- 
ment of  early  printing  in  England — remains  a  tribute  to 
'  A  Cicero,  Pro  Milone,  is  doubtfully  assigned  to  O.xford,  1480. 


FRENCH  TYPOGRAPHY  IN  ENGLAND    87 

PVench  typographical  craftsmanship  and  energy.  The  subsi- 
diary nicchaniail  appliances  of  the  art  long  continued  to  be 
supplied  by  aliens.  Not  for  some  seventy  years  after  the 
printing-press  was  introduced  into  this  country  does  type 
seem  to  have  been  cast  here.  For  the  best  part  of  a  century 
type  was  imported  from  the  continent.  The  earliest  manu- 
facturer of  type  in  r^ngland  was  a  French  settler,  Hubert 
Danvillier  or  Donviley,  who  received  a  grant  of  denization  as 
'  fondeur  de  lettres '  at  the  end  of  Edward  VI's  reign.^ 

French  and  other  foreign  printers  had  their  agents  in  London 
throughout  the  early  years  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  French 
editions  not  only  of  the  classics  but  of  religious  service-books 
abounded  in  the  English  market.     The  classical  texts  which 
were  studied  by  Tudor  scholars  were  invariably  foreign  im- 
portations, and  largely  came  from  France,  although  Germany 
and  Italy  were  also  prolific  sources  of  supply.     The  French 
printers   gave   English   scholarship   especially   valuable    and 
practical  aid  in  a  direction  of  the  highest  moment.     Greek  . 
typography   was  not  practised  at  all  in  England  for  many/ 
a  long  year.     It  was  at  first  a  practical  monopoly  of  Italy,  and,' 
was  somewhat  slow  in  reaching  France.     Not  till  1507,  when! 
some  of  Theocritus's  poems  were^-^pfoduced  in   Paris,  was\ 
Greek  printing  associaled  with  the  French  press.     Soon  after  i 
that  date  the  French  scholar-printers  became  Greek  printers  1 
on  a  great  scale  and  brought  Greek  typography  to  perfection.  ] 
A  standard  Greek  type  was  invented  by  Claude  Garamond, 
the  royal  printer  of  Francis  I,  about  1541 ,  and  '  French  Royal ' 
type  long  held  sway  throughout  Europe.     No  Greek  book 
was  printed  in  England  before   1543,  when  Reginald  Wolf, 
a  German  immigrant,  set  up  an  extract  from  Chrysostom  in 
Greek  type  of  French  design.'-     Wolf's  volume  had  few  and 

^  Alie7i  Members  of  the  Book  Trade  during  the  Tudor  Period,  edited 
by  E.  J.  Worman  (Bibliographical  Society,  1906),  pp.  13-14-  The  French 
denizen,  Hubert  Danvillier,  had  a  kinsman,  Antonius  Danvillier,  also 
a  French  subject,  who  was  naturalized  in  1567,  after  having  practised,  at 
least  since  1562,  as  a  '  fusor  typorum'  in  Blackfriars. 

^  See  Robert  Proctor's  Printing  of  Greek  in  the  Fifteenth  Century 
(Illustrated  Monographs,  Bibliographical  Society,  No.  VlII,  1900).  A 
few  words  in  Greek  type  were  introduced  into  Latin  texts  by  Siberch,  the 
printer   at  Cambridge   in  1522,  and  that  example  was  followed  several 


88  FRENCH   INFLUENCE    1500-1550 

undistinguished  successors.  Tudor  England  can  claim  no 
monument  of  Greek  printing  to  set  beside  the  scores  of  great 
contemporary  examples  of  France.  To  the  artistic  ingenuity 
of  French  printers  the  circulation  and  perusal  of  Greek  litera- 
ture, a  chief  source  of  the  new  enlightenment,  owed  almost 
everything  in  Tudor  England.^ 

The  varied  advantages  which  the  typographic  art  derived 
from  foreign  guidance  and  example,  never  succeeded  in 
investing  the  profession  of  printer  in  England  with  those 
noble  literary  and  scholarly  traditions  which  attached  to  it 
from  the  first  in  France  as  well  as  in  Italy,  Germany,  and 
Holland.  John  Rastell,  a  literary  lawyer,  who  was  the  friend 
and  brother-in-law  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  set  up  a  press  of  his 
own  under  Wynkyn  de  Worde's  tuition  ;  but  Rastell  remains 
an  unique  instance  of  a  member  of  a  learned  profession 
engaging  under  a  Tudor  sovereign  in  the  printing  trade,  and 
his  career  quickly  ended  in  disaster.  Probably  the  nearest 
approach  to  a  learned  printer  that  Tudor  England  knew 
was  Reginald  Wolf,  a  native  of  Strasburg,  who  came  to 
England  in  adult  years,  and  was  appointed  royal  printer  to 
King  Edward  VI.  We  have  just  seen  that  he  enjoys  the 
distinction  of  printing  in  England  the  first  Greek  book.  It 
was  he,  too,  who  originally  devised  and  planned  the  great 
chronicle  of  English  history  which  is  identified  with  the  name 
of  Holinshed,  its  chief  compiler.  Yet  Wolf  hardly  reached 
the  standard  of  typographic  culture  with  which  the  literary 
history  of  the  Continent  makes  us  familiar. 

The  religious  element  in  the  English  atmosphere  seems  to 
have  impaired  the  printers'  enthusiasm  for  pure  scholarship  and 
learning.  Foreign  printers  on  settling  in  England  tended  to 
set  the  sectarian  interests  of  religion  above  the  broader  interests 

times  before  1543,  but  no  complete  Greek  text  appeared  in  England 
earlier. 

*  The  first  great  monument  of  Greek  printing  in  England  falls  outside 
the  sixteenth  century ;  that  was  the  edition  of  Chrysostom  printed  at 
Eton  early  in  the  seventeenth  century  from  Greek  type  of  the  French 
pattern  (c.  1610),  by  Sir  Henry  Savile,  who  had  studied  abroad  under 
the  best  continental  scholars.  The  French  model  was  followed  too  in 
the  beautiful  Greek  type  presented  to  Oxford  University  by  Dr.  Fell 
at  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century. 


ICNGLISH  FRINTKRS  AND  PURITANISM        89 

of  culture.     Many  French   printers,  including  the   I^tiennes, 
were   of  the    Reformed    faith,  but    the    Huguenot  sentiment 
worked  otherwise  than  English  Puritanism.     Wolf  came  to 
identify  himself  wholly  with  P^nglish  Protestantism,  and  his 
press  ultimately  served  the  cause  of  religious  dogma  almost  to 
the  exclusion  of  profane  letters.     There  were  examples  ot 
a  like  degeneracy  on  the  part  of  a  few  printers  of  English 
birth,  who  shared  Wolf's  literary  instinct,     Grafton,  a  Tudor 
printer  of  English  race,  prepared  for  the  press  some  compila- 
tions of  English  history  from  his  own  pen,  but  his  literary 
activity  was  afterwards  restricted  to  paths  of  Puritan  theolog)'. 
John  Day,  the  printer-friend  of  John  Foxe,  the  martyrologist, 
controlled  a  press  of  high  mechanical  repute,  for  which  he 
wrote  much ;  but  all  his  writing  was  designed  to  champion 
the  cause  of  Puritanism  and  to  refute  the  pretensions  of  Rome. 
Thus  a  religious  rather  than  a  scholarly  ideal  dominated  such 
Tudor  printers  as  cherished  any  literary  ambition  through  the 
middle    years   of  the  century.     Here   and  there  an   English 
printer  claimed  responsibility  for  a  translation  of  a  popular 
profane  pamphlet  from  a  foreign  tongue,  but  the  episode  w^as 
infrequent  and  rarely  bore  witness  to  a  pronounced  literary 
feeling.     The  choice  of  text  showed  indeed  less  taste  than  was 
exhibited  by  Caxton,  the  father  of  English  typography,  who 
made  small  pretension  to  aesthetic  or  scholarly  aim.     Nor  did 
any  of  Caxton's  successors  approach  him  in  his  translating 
industry   or  versatility.       P>om   whatever  point  of  view  we 
examine  the  literary  effort  of  Tudor  printers,  there  emerges 
the  plain  fact  that  the  French  type  of.scholarj)rinter,  whose 
literary  skill  and  sympathy  ranked  him  with  the  great  con- 
temporary men  of  letters,  was  unknowii  t&  Tudor  Englaad. 
The   contrast    between    the    positions    assigned  by   the  two 
countries  to  the  printer  and  his  art  in  the  society  of  culture 
was  sharply  defined  by  the  Stationers'  Company  of  London 
in  the  seventeenth  century,  when  Parliament  threatened  to 
abolish  some  mercantile  privileges  of  the  trade  : 

France  especially  is  famous  for  the  value  she  sets  upon  that 
profession  and  trade  of  men,  whom  we  in  P2ngland  incorporate 
by  the  name  of  vStationers  ;  for  there  they  are  privileged  above 


90  FRENCH    INFLUENCE    1500  1550 

mere  mechanics,  and  honoured  wilh  a  habitation,  as  it  were, 
in  the  suburbs  of  literature  itself.' 


V 

Early  Tudor  Translations  from  French  Prose 

Although  printers  in  England  of  the  early  sixteenth  century 

were  comparatively  few  and  uncultivated,  they  were  not  idle. 

Much  literature  came  quickly  from  their  presses.      Caxton's 

activities    marked    out   the   road   which    most    of  his    early 

disciples   followed.       Apart    from   service-books  or   missals, 

which  were  in  Latin,  their  work  was  mainly  confined  to  the 

English   language.     They  ignored  the  texts  of  the  classics. 

j  Mediaeval  literature  in  England  was  scanty.     Caxton  put  into 

I   type  the  poetry  of  Chaucer  and  Lydgate,  but  most  of  his 

I    abundant  energy  was  absorbed  by  translation  from  the  French, 

\  much  of  which  came  from  his  own  pen.    Caxton's  translations 

\  were  invariably  in  prose.  A  little  French  poetry  was  rendered 

Ifor  him  by  others  into  English  verse.       From  the  date  of 

'the  introduction   of  printing  into  England   down    to    1550, 

the   bulk   of  the   literature  offered  by  the. -printers  to^the 

I  English^  reading  public  was  in  prose,  and  for  the  most  part 

[J^n    prose    which    was    translated    from    the    French.      The 

French  source  was  not  always  itself  an  original  work  ;  it  was 

often  a  translation  from   the  classical  tongues,  or  from  the 

Italian  or  the  ^Spanish,     Cicero,  ^'^erg^l,  Seneca,  Thucydldes 

were   soon   printed   in   English,  but    the   printed   text   was 

derived  from  contemporary  French  versions.     French  was  the 

key  with  which  Caxton  and  his  early  successors  sought  to 

unlock  for  their  clients  such  literature  of  the  world  as  seemed 

deserving  of  notice. 

Caxton  vv^as  pursuing  a  veteran  tradition  in  offering  English 
readers  a  recreative  literature  from  French  pens.  The  taste 
for  French  verse  and  prose  was  already  well  alive.  The 
authors  of  mediaeval  France  were  already  vaguely  acknow- 
ledged In  England  to  be  apostles  of  culture.  Caxton's 
printing  press  conspicuously  reinforced  the  conservative  pre- 

*  Arber,  Shiiiofurs'  Cimipany  Registers,  i.  584. 


1 


\ 


CAXTON'S  TRANSLATIONS  91 

dilection.  French  literature  of  the  Renaissance  type  was 
unborn  in  the  season  of  Caxlon's  activity.  The  first  English 
printers  were  bound  to  have  recourse  to  the  expiring-  literary 
efforts  of  mediaeval  France.  There  were  voluminous  stores 
in  both  manuscript  and  print  from  which  Caxton  could  glean. 
The  fame  of  the  later  mediaeval  authors  was  still  strong  in 
France,  and  the  early  French  presses  increased  the  circulation 
of  their  work.  The  books  belonged  to  a  school  which  the 
Renaissance  was  on  the  point  of  dismissing  to  oblivion.  The 
tone  of  thought  was  languid,  and  lacked  the  stimulus  of  the 
new  era. 

The  early  Tudor  press  gave  its  readers  in  full  measure 
English  versions  of  French  romances  of  chivalry,  of  romantic 
allegories  with  ethical  intention,  and  of  picturesque  historical 
narratives.  Many  had  just  been  printed  in  France  for  the 
first  time.  No  ampler  proof  of  the  readiness  and  eagerness 
of  the  average  English  mind  to  assimilate  French  literature  is 
needed  than  the  mere  catalogue  of  books  to  which  the  early 
English  printers  devoted  their  labours. 

In  the  more  ancient  literary  fields  Caxton  found  the  richest 
fuel  for  his  press  in  translations  by  his  own  pen  of  such 
French  tales  of  chivalry  as  The  four  Sons  of  Aymon^  The  Life 
of  Charlemagne^  and  the  romantic  History  of  B  Ian  char  din 
and  Eglantine.  Of  all  Caxton's  publications  none  in  tlie" 
category  of  French  chivalric  romance  claims  a  higher  interest 
than  his  Morte  d'Arthnr^  a  cycle  of  Arthurian  legend.  vSir 
Thomas  Malory"had  adapted  the  work  from  the  French  some 
"Seven  years  before  Caxton  set  up  his  press  at  Westminster. 
Malory's  manuscript  was  completed  before  Caxton  had  learned 
the  printing  art  at  Bruges  or  Cologne.  In  publishing  it 
Caxton  illustrated  his  sympathy  with  a  pre-existent  vogue. 
It  was  in  France  that  the  Arthurian  tradition,  which  English 
literature  was  to  assimilate,  had  long  since  received  its  literary 
baptism.  Such  English  romances  of  Arthur,  Lancelot,  and 
Guinevere  as  circulated  in  mediaeval  manuscripts,  acknow- 
ledged French  inspiration.  Malory  worked  almost  exclusively 
on  old  French  versions  of  the  Arthurian  story.  Fifty-six  times 
does  he  warn  his  reader  that  '  the  French  book  '  is  his  guide 


92  FRENCH    INFLUENCE    1550- 1550 

and  tutor.     Malory  is  a  compiler  on  a  liberal  scale,  and  brings 

together  scattered  stories,  but  he  offers  his  readers  little  that 

l^^  'cannot  be  traced  to  a  comparatively  early  French   original. 

_    ,  To  Caxton's  typographic  labours  on  Malory's  Morte  cT Arthur 

\,^^  1^^         is  mainly  due  the  fruitful  career  which   Arthurian   romance 

has  since  run  in  English  poetry.     There  is  no  more  striking 

.     J  testimony  either  to    the  continuity   of  French    influence   on 

^^^'^'^  English  literature   or  to  the   stimulus  which   that    influence 

derived  from  the  printing  press, 

Caxton  found  other  literary  material  in  French  com- 
position of  more  recent  date.  Through  the  early  years 
of  Caxton's  own  fifteenth  century  a  French  writer  who 
enjoyed  wide  vogue  was  Alain  Chartier  (1390 -1458), 
whose  literary  industry  is  attested  by  massive  memorials 
both  in  print  and  manuscript.  He  was  a  voluble  philo- 
sopher in  prose  and  a  fluent  poet,  delighting  in  ballades  and 
rondeaus,  in  melancholy  strains  of  ethical  allegory,  and  in 
prose  disquisitions  on  the  philosophy  of  life.  For  a  time  he 
was  French  ambassador  in  Scotland,  and  Margaret  of  Scotland, 
the  wife  of  Louis  XI  while  Dauphin,  adored  him  and  his 
work.  Alfred  de  Musset  has  written  a  charming  poem  on  the 
old  anecdote,  now  unhappily  refuted  as  apocryphal,  that  the 
princess  publicly  in  the  French  court  kissed  the  sleeping 
philosopher  and  poet,  who  was  notorious  for  his  ugliness, 
and  excused  herself  for  the  breach  of  etiquette  by  the  remark 
that  she  kissed  the  golden  wisdom  which  issued  from  the 
ugly  lips.^  Chartier  died  in  old  age  in  1458  after  a  life  spent 
in  the  service  of  Church  and  State.     But  his  name  had  lost 

'  The  story  was  first  printed  by  Etienne  Pasquier,  the  poet-historian,  in 
1560,  who  ilkistrates  Chartier's  'mots  dorez  et  belles  sentences '  by  a  long 
quotation  from  his  Ciirial  (see  Lcs  Rec/ierc/ics  dc  la  France,  Livre  VI, 
ch.  xvi,  in  Pasquier's  G^uvres,  Amsterdam,  1723,  i.  584-5).  The  story 
was  well  known  to  the  Elizabethans.  Puttenham  relates  it  somewhat 
inaccurately  in  his  A?-te  of  E/tgiis/i  Poesii\  1589  (ed.  Arber,  1869,  p.  35). 
The  English  critic  assigns  the  adventure  to  *  that  noble  woman  twice 
French  queen,  Lady  Anne  of  Britain,  wife  first  to  King  Charles  the  \'III, 
and  after  to  Louis  the  XII,  who  passing  one  day  from  her  lodging  toward 
the  king's  side,  saw  in  a  gallery  Master  Alain  Chartier,  the  king's 
secretary,  an  excellent  maker  or  poet,  leaning  on  a  table's  end  asleep, 
and  stooped  down  to  kiss  him,  saying  thus  in  all  their  hearings,  "  we  may 
not  of  princely  courtesy  pass  by  and  not  honour  with  our  kiss  the  mouth 
from  whence  so  many  sweet  ditties  and  golden  poems  have  issued.'' ' 


CHRISTIM-:  DI-:  IMSAX  93 

none  of  its  repute  in  the  France  of  Caxton's  time.     A  French 
contemporary  of  the  English  printer  hailed  Chartier  as 

Un  Poete  hault  et  scientific  .  .  . 

Doux  en  ses  faicts,  et  plein  de  rhetorique. 

Clerc  excellent,  orateur  magnifique. 

Caxton  mainly  turned  his  attention  to  Chartier's  prose,  to 
his  Curial,  a  gently  pathetic  description  of  the  trials  of 
a  courtier's  life.^  English  readers  welcomed  the  book  with 
something  of  the  Scottish  princess's  ardour. 

Another  French  writer,  whose  fame  in  England  Caxton 
rather  extended  than  inaugurated,  was  CJiristine  dej^isan,  wife 
of  Etienne  Castel  ( 1 363- 1 430  ?).  She  may  almost  be  regarded) 
as  the  earliest  of  professional  authors  amongst  women,  and  \% 
certainly  worthy  to  rank  with  literary  heroines  of  a  later  age. 
Prose  and  poetry  came  with  equal  fluency  from  her  pen,  and 
her  voluble  expositions  of  mediaeval  ethics  and  ideals  gave  her 
a  repute  which  her  contemporary  Joan  of  Arc  alone  excelled 
among  the  women  of  her  time,  A  lyric  in  praise  of  the  Maid 
of  Orleans  was  one  of  the  latest  of  Christine's  songs.  Christine 
had  declined  the  invitation  of  Henry  IV  of  England  to  visit  his 
court,  but  her  only  son,  Jean  Castel,  learned  knightly  exercises 
from  an  English  master.  In  the  household  of  the  Earl  of 
Salisbury  Jean  Castel  was  serving  when  Caxton  was  a  young 
man.  The  teaching  which  Christine  devised  for  her  son  in 
her  versified  Moral  Proverbs  was  turned  into  English  by 
Earl  Rivers,  brother  of  Edward  IV's  queen  Elizabeth,  and 
was  circulated  by  Caxton  in  print.  To  Christine  is  ascribed, 
moreover,  the  original  P>ench  of  the  chivalric  handbook, 
Fayts  of  Arms  and  Chivalry^  which  also  came  in  English 
from  Caxton's  press,  and  enjoyed  a  wide  popularity  in  social 
circles  during  the  early  years  of  Sir  Thomas  More.  The  cult 
of  old  French  chivalry  was  endowed  with  a  new  lease  of 
life  by  Caxton's  typographic  energy,  and  Christine  de  Pisan 
enjoyed   in    England    the    honours    of    its    chief    priestess. 

^  To  Caxton's  volume  there  was  prefixed  a  translation  of  a  ballade  of 
unexceptionable  moral  intention  with  a  clumsy  burden  ('Ne  chyer  but 
of  a  man  Joyous  ').  The  poem,  though  assigned  to  Chartier,  is  from 
another  pen.  See  M.  Paul  Meyer's  note  in  reprint  of  Caxton's  volume 
by  the  Early  English  Text  .Society. 


94  FRENCH    INFLUENCl*:    1500-1550 

A  popular  venture  of  Henry  Pepwell,  one  of  Caxton's 
youngest  professional  pupils,  was  The  Cyte  of  Ladyes,  an 
English  rendering  of  one  of  Christine's  spacious  allegories 
in  prose.  The  original,  Le  iycsor  de  la  cite  des  dames, 
was  first  printed  in  the  fifteenth  century  at  the  great  Paris 
press  of  Antoine  Verard.^ 

When  the  sixteenth  century  opened,  Tudor  England,  at  the 
bidding  of  Caxton  and  his  disciples,  continued  to  seek  sober 
recreation  in  French  literature  of  a  dead  or  dying  generation. 
fThe  toil  of  translation  was  treated  by  the  first  English  printers 
[as  a  normal  part  of  their  office-work.  They  were  self- 
educated,  and  wrote  with  rough  and  ready  pen.  It  was 
inevitable  that  their  voluminous  energy  should  leave  its  mark 
on  the  style  of  early  Tudor  prose.  Their  syntax  was  often 
faulty.  They  were  no  grammatical  purists.  They  liberally 
and  literally  transferred  to  their  pages  French  idiom  and 
French  vocabulary.  But  they  tended  under  French  sway  to 
fluency.  Although  they  linked  their  sentences  with  one 
another  by  no  more  subtle  ties  than  disjointed  particles,  they 
helped  to  make  English  prose  lithe  and  flexible.  Above 
all,  th£y_,3tim.ula]£d^jhe  Jhabit  of  vernacular^_comppsition. 
The  late  mediaeval  French  prose,  which  Caxton  and  his 
immediate  successors  so  freely  anglicized,  lacked  that 
lucidity  and  logical  precision  which  the  French  Renaissance 
was  to  generate,  but  it  had  for  the  most  part  a  simplicity 
which  often  bred  a  languid  charm.  English  prose  of  the 
fifteenth  century  was,  when  compared  with  its  French 
prototype,  as  small  in  quantity  as  in  literary  quality,  but  the 
English  printers'  energy  in  translation  fitfully  brightened  the 
literary  prospects  of  the  domestic  language,  and  there  was  for 
the  time  no  other  clear  source  of  illumination. 

Caxton's  example  was  fruitful,  and  proved  a  stepping- 
stone  to  better  achievement.  In  the  generation  which 
embraces  the  fkst^-tliirty^^ears^of  the  sixteenth  century  one 
English  writer  pursued  Caxton's  metho3s~with  enhanced 
ability  and  pronounced  literary  effect.      Lord  Berners   has 

1  Cf.  Robert  La}tehavi's  Letter,  ed.  Fiirnivall  (New  Shakspere  Soc), 
1890,  pp.  clxxvii  et  seq. 


LORD  liKRNl'RS  95 

higher  claims  than  Caxton  to  the  literary  historian's  atten- 
tion.     He    betrays    qualifications    for    the  literary   craft  to 
which  Caxton  was  a  stranger,  but  he  can  plead  no  greater 
independence  of  French  inspiration.     Lord  Berners  worked 
even  more  exclusively  than  Caxton  under  French  influence. 
Like  Palsgrave^  he  was   one  of  the   English  courtiers  who  ' 
accompanied  Henry  Mil's  sister  Mary  to  the  brilliant  Parisian 
court  when  she  married  Louis  XIL      His  later  life  too,  was 
closely  connected  with  France.      It    was   wholly    passed   at 
Calais,    then    an    English    possession.      Of   Calais    and    its  / 
marches  he  was  governor.    His  work  brings  England's  French 
outpost  into  prominence  as  a  hterary  as  well  as  a  territorial 
link  with  France.     At  Calais  Berners  first  turned  to  literature, 
devoting   voluminous  industry   to   rendering   French   books . 
into  English.     Some  of  the  authors  whom  he  introduced  to  1 
his  own  country  were  Spanish.     But  he  worked  not  on  the  \ 
original  text,  but  on  French  versions. 

Lord  Berners 's  translating  zeal  achieved  two  triumphs,  which 
notably  helped  to  maintain  English  literary  effort  in  its  French 
mould.  He  rendered  into  English  two  French  books  of  great 
length  and  of  surpassing  interest  in  different  ways.  His  first 
undertaking  was  Froissart's  Chronicle  {i  ^i-^-^) .  A  subsequent 
venture  was  one  of  the  best  of  the  French  romances  of  chivalry, 
Huoii  of  Bordeaux.  Both  works  were  of  veteran  standing  in 
Lord  Berners 's  time.  Froi^art  \yas  a  contemporary  of  Chaucer. 
He  was  a  mediaeval  poet  as  well  as  a  mediaeval  chronicler, 
and  his  poetry  shows  that  the  lyric  sense  was  strong  in 
him.  He  was  well  endowed  with  the  joy  of  life,  with  gaiety 
of  heart,  with  gifts  of  observation  and  an  eye  for  picturesque 
incident.  All  these  qualities  colour  his  story  of  the  four- 
teenth-century war  between  France  and  England,  and  give 
his  chronicle  the  temper  of  a  prose  epic  and  the  variety 
of  a  chivalric  romance.  Lord  Berners's  literary  touch  was 
heavier  than  that  of  his  original  author.  His  style  caught  less 
of  the  Gallic  blitheness  than  could  be  wished.  FJut  his 
English  version  of  Froissart  opened  to  the  English  people 
a  new  vein  of  historical  literature,  which  was  unknown  in 
England  before.   Froissart  had  his  precursors  in  Villehardouin 


96  FRENCH    INFLUKNCE    1500-1550 

and  Joinville.      Mediaeval    England   was   innocent    of  such 
masters  of  historic  sensibility. 

The  romance  of  Htion  of  Bordeaux,  which  Berners  also 
communicated  to  his  fellow  countrymen  in  their  own  tongue 
about  1530,  belongs  to  another  literary  category.  Its  pre- 
tences to  historic  truth  are  empty  flourishes.  It  is  a  curious 
medley  of  French  charm  and  na'ivete  and  of  Gothic  and 
grotesque  legend.  With  a  welcome  inconsistency  it  imports 
into  feudal  scenery  the  airy  figure  of  Oberon^_J<ing  of  the 
Fairies.  Oberon  is  an  ethereal  conception  even  in  Berners's 
dry  presentation  of  the  French,  and  it  stirred  the  English 
imagination,  vShakespeare  drew^  from  Berners's  English  ver- 
sion his  knowledge  of  the  fairy  king.  If  the  influence  on 
English  literature  of  mediaeval  French  fancy  were  confined  to 
those  scenes  in  A  Midsiiminer  Night's  Dream  of  which 
Oberon  is  the  hero,  English  gratitude  to  mediaeval  France 
and  her  Tudor  interpreters  ought  not  to  be  grudging. 

But  it  was  not  only  chivalric  history  or  romance  that  Tudor 
England  found  of  interest  and  service  in  French  prose. 
The  translators  from  the  French  supplied  Englishmen  with 
much  of  their  first  knowledge  of  practical  science.  Botany 
became  a  popular  English  study  largely  under  French 
influence.  '  The  Crete  Herball,  which  giveth  parfyt  know- 
lege  and  understandyng  of  all  maner  of  herbes  and  there 
gracyous  vertues/  which  was  till  near  the  end  of  the  sixteenth 
century  the  standard  English  manual  of  botany,  was  a  literal 
rendering  '  out  of  ye  Frensshe  into  Englysshe '  of  Le  Grand 
Herbier,  an  early  publication  of  the  press  of  Paris.  The 
English  version  was  first  printed  'at  London  in  Southwarke'  in 
1526,  a  year  after  the  publication  of  the  second  and  concluding 
volume  of  Lord  Berners's  notable  rendering  of  Froissart. 

VI 

Les  Rhetoriqueurs 

Berners,  hke  Caxton,  translated  French  prose  into  English. 
Neither  betrayed  interest  in  French  verse,  nor  showed  much 
acquaintance  with   strictly  contemporary  French   literature. 


POETIC   RHETORICIANS   IN   ERANCE  97 

Hoth  sought  their  material  in  work  of  a  past  generation, 
rhere  were,  however,  poetic  writers  in  England  of  l^erners's 
generation  who  stood  to  Erench  literature  in  a  somewhat 
different  relation.  The  debt  of  early  Tudor  poetry  to  Erance 
was  hardly  smaller  than  that  of  early  Tudor  prose,  but  the 
loans  involved  no  calls  on  the  past ;  they  were  levied  with- 
out exception  on  the  present.  The  Erench  literature  from 
which  the  early  Tudor  poets  sought  inspiration  was  of  their 
own  epoch,  and  free  adaptation  took  for  the  most  part  the 
place  of  direct  and  avowed  translation.  A  few  poetic  voices 
in  early  Tudor  England  essayed  some  original  utterance, 
but  they  failed  to  strike  a  distinctively  national  note.  The 
native  fancy  was  for  the  most  part  a  foreign  echo,  and  the 
metrical  form  was  invariably  a  foreign  suggestion.  None  the 
less  the  obligation  to  the  foreigner  usually  stopped  short  of 
literal  transference. 

A  crowd  of  poetic  pens  were  active  and  voluble  in 
France  at  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  and  through  the  early 
decades  of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  printing  presses 
groaned  more  heavily  beneath  the  weight  of  freshly  penned 
verse  than  of  freshly  penned  prose.  Elaborate  treatises  on 
the  art  of  poetry  and  on  prosody  bore  witness  to  the  serious- 
ness with  which  poetic  labour  was  pursued.  There  was  a 
sportive  ingenuity  in  some  new  metrical  devices,  although 
the  light  verse  often  sank  to  the  level  of  inane  punning  and 
did  not  disdain  the  verbal  quip  of  the  charade.  Rondeaus 
and  ballades  abounded,  for  the  gay  heart  of  Erance  had  not 
ceased  to  beat.  But  Villon's  triumphs  were  not  repeated. 
Dullness  was  the  goddess  to  which  the  Erench  contemporaries 
of  early  Tudor  poets  often  sacrificed  their  energies.  The 
French  poets  of  the  epoch  too  often  yielded  to  the  torpor  of 
rhetorical  and  allegorical  convention  which  the  Roman  de  la 
Rose  inaugiirated  more  than  two  centuries  before.  Rhetorical 
allegory  was  the  staple  of  their  argument.  The  view  of  life  is 
always  ethically  sound ;  the  warnings  against  sin  and  impos- 
ture are  fervent,  but  the  savour  of  tediousness  is  pronounced. 

'  Les  rhetoriqueurs,'  as  the  early  poetic  school  of  six- 
teenth-century   Erance    is   known    to    Erench    critics,   have 

LEE  H 


98  FRENCH   INFLUENCE    1500-1550 

for  numbers,  fertility,  and  popularity  no  counterpart  in  con- 
temporary l^^ngland.  In  them  the  old  mediaeval  tradition, 
although  just  tinged  with  the  new  humanism,  died  hard. 
Jean  le  Maire  de  Beiges  (1473-1525  ?),  who  wrote  of 
honour  and  virtue  with  much  allegorical  skill  and  more 
variety  than  is  common,  was  reckoned  by  charitable  friends 
the  Homer  of  this  band.  The  grammarian  Palsgrave 
cites  him  liberally,  and  he  was  confidently  placed  among  the 
immortals.  There  is  more  reason  in  the  ridicule  which 
Rabelais  bestowed  on  another  eminent  member  of  the 
brotherhood,  Guillaume  Cretin  {d.  1525)—/^  bon  Cretin  au 
vers  eqtiivoque—^^  poetic  historiographer  of  Francis  I. 
Of  him,  under  the  grotesque  name  of  Raminagrobis,  Fanurge 
takes  humorous  counsel  on  the  subject  of  marriage,  quoting 
literally  one  of  his  serious  poems  as  if  it  were  an  effort  in 
I  burlesque.  In  the  train  of  this  army  there  tramped,  how- 
ever, one  attractive  vagabond  figure,  Pierre_GringQine,  who 
lived  in  somewhat  obscure  circumstances  from  1475  until 
about  1534.'  He  was  a  professional  actor,  whose  main  energy 
w^s  engaged  in  penning  rudimentary  plays,  dramatic  dialogues 
and  satires,  insolently  lampooning  current  politics  and  social 
life.  In  the  presentation  of  his  social  and  political  burlesques 
on  the  stage  he  filled  the  chief  parts.  But  Gringoire  was  more 
versatile  than  his  dramatic  essays  suggest.  He  made  many 
experiments  in  that  allegorical,  iirterpretatwn_oif_:idrtue  and 
vice,  in  which  the  '  rhetoriqueurs '  did  homage  to  the  ancient 
manner  of  the  Roman  de  la  Rose. 

It  was  to  Gringoire  and  to  his  masters, '  Les  Rhetoriqueurs,' 
hat  the  early  stream  of  Tudor  poetry  was  largely  tributary, 
nglish  allegory  and  satire  of  Henry  VIIl's  reign  were  of  the 
contemporary  French  pattern.  Gringoire  and  his  companions 
of  the  French  stage  also  fed  Tudor  drama  at  its  birth.  John 
Heywood's  Four  P's  follows  closely  a  French_model.^  But 
Heywood  and  his  disciples  refrained  from  confessing  their  debts 
to  France.      Nor  of  five  English  verse-writers  of  the  epoch 

^  Out  of  the  uncertainties  of  his  biography  was  evolved  the  httle 
modern  French  play  by  Theodore  de  Banville,  recently  familiar  on  the 
English  stage  under  the  title  of  '  The  Balladmonger  '. 

*  See  p.  372,  infra. 


Ar.EXANDKR    BARCLAY  99 

who  merit  notice,  did  more  than  one  frankly  avow  themselves 
to  be  translators  of  current  French  or  other  foreign  poetry. 
Only  one  plainly  announced  an  ambition  to  improve  Tudor 
culture  by  acceptino-  foreign  guidance.  The  other  four  worked    \ 
more  subtly  and  less  openly,  but  their  labours  almost  as  clearly    ' 
echoed  the  French  note. 

The  credit  of  first  openly  introducing  Tudor  readers  to 
French  poetry  of  their  own  period  belongs  to  Alexander 
Barclay^(i475  ?-i552).  He  is  a  figure  of  great  importance  in  a 
comparative  study  of  Tudor  literature  and  the  contemporary 
literature  of  the  Continent.  One  of  the  many  Scotchmen  whol 
were  educated  in  Paris, he  passed  all  his  adult  career  in  England,| 
holding  ecclesiastical  office  in  Devonshire,  Ely,  or  London. 
He  declared  that  his  aim  in  life  was  to  '  English  such  foreign 
authors  as  might  benefit  the  mind  and  morals  of  English 
people '.  He  modestly  disclaims  ability  to  do  more.  Though  he 
did  not  confine  his  attention  to  French  literature,  his  laborious 
compilation  of  a  French  grammar,  T/ie  Introductory  to  Jf  rite 
and  to  Pronounce  French,  shows  how  high  the  French 
language  stood  in  his  regard. 

All  Barclay's  translations  showed  a  poetic  facility  which 
caught  the  popular  ear,  and  familiarized  a  somewhat  sluggish 
audience  with  the  drift  of  much  contemporary  foreign  effort. 
Very  widely  known  was  Barclay's  rendering  of  the  Latin 
^c/<9^//^j'^ftlie_xonlemporary  Italian,  Baptista  Mantuanus,  the 
'  good  old  Mantuan  '  of  Shakespeare's  schooldays.^  Even  more 
acceptable  proved  Barclay's  Ship  of  Fools ^  which  came  from 
the  German  of  the  master  satirist  of  the  er^,  vSebastian  Brandt. 
A  French  rendering  of  the  Ship  of  Fools  was  printed  as 
early  as  1497.  French  example  governed  there  and  elsewhere\ 
Barclay's  choice  of  material.  It  is  more  pertinent  to  our 
present  purpose  to  dwell  on  Barclay's  allegorical  poem^^lled 
The  Castle  of  Labour^  which  came  from  the  contemporary 

*  A  later  translation  by  George  Turbeiville  came  out  in  1567.  Cf. 
Love's  Labour's  Lost,  IV.  2,  where  Holofernes  the  schoolmaster  quotes 
the  opening  words  of  IMantuanus's  Eclogues  : 

'  "  Fauste,  precor  gelida  quando  pecus  omne  sub  umbra 
Ruminat," 
and  so  forth.     Ah  !  good  old  Mantuan  .  .  .  Old  Mantuan  !  old  Mantuan  ! 
Who  understandeth  thee  not,  loves  thee  not.' 

H  2 


loo  FRENCH   INFLUENCE    1500  1550 

French  of  Pierre  Gringoire,  and  is  peculiarly  characteristic  of 
the  pre- Renaissance  tendency  of  poetry  in  France. 
/jl^'^  Gnngoire^^Aa^eaM  de  Labour^  which  was  turned  into 
English  verse  by  Barclay,  is  cast  in  the  conventional  mould. 
'  Jeune  Enfant '  (Young-  Child)  is  the  hero,  who  after  much 
tuition  from  personages  named  respectively  Chastisement 
('  Chastiement '),  Free  Will  ('  Franc  Arbitre  '),  and  Reason 
('Entendement') — the  last  a  very  grave  old  man — is  misled 
by  a  lady  of  fashion  whom  he  marries.  Legal  tricksters 
involve  '  Jeune  Enfant '  in  many  misunderstandings  with  his 
wife.  He  is  finally  led  by  '  Bon  Voulant ',  '  Boncceur', '  Talent 
de  Bien-Faire'  (Desire  of  Well-doing)  to  the  Castle  of  Labour, 
where  he  finds  peace  and  satisfaction.  Hard  work  is  the 
salvation  of  man's  soul.  Such  is  the  moral  of  the  piece,  wTiich 
runs  conversely  in  Barclay's  w^ords  : 

Idleness,  mother  of  all  adversity, 

Her  subjects  bringeth  to  extreme  poverty. 

Barclay's  version  went  through  at  least  two  editions.  The 
French  muse  of  Gringoire  smoothed  the  path  of  allegory 
in  Tudor  England. 

Alexander  Barclay  was  hardly  less  well  acquainted  wath 
Gringoire's  master  in  allegory,  Jean  Le  Maire  de  Beiges, 
whose  fame  was  made  by  Le  Temple  d' Honnetir  et  de  Veriu 
(r.  1503).  The  French  poet  wrote  this  allegorical  poem  'a 
I'honneur  de  feu  Monseigneur  de  Bourbon  '.  In  15 13,  when 
Sir  Edward  Howard,  the  Lord  High  Admiral  of  England,  was 
slain  in  a  sea-fight  with  the  French  off  the  coast  of  Brittany, 
Barclay  followed  closely  in  the  Frenchman's  footsteps  of 
elegy,  and  gave  voice  to  the  national  mourning  in  '  The 
description  of  the  Tow-re  of  vertue  and  honour  into  the  which 
the  noble  Howarde  contended  to  enter  by  worthy  actes  of 
chivalry  '.     Barclay's  Tozvre  was  planned  on  the  model  of  Le 

Maire's  Temple, 

I  The  discipleship  to  foreign  masters  of  the  four  Tudor  poets, 
I  John  Skelton  (1460-1529),  Stephen  Hawes  (1470.^-1524), 
\   Sir    Thomas    Wyatt    (1503-42),    and    the    Earl    of   Surrey 

^  Mr.  Wilfrid  P.  Mustard,  Modern  Lani^uage  Notes,  Jan.,  1909, 
Vol.  xxiv,  No.  I,  pp.  9-10. 


FOUR   TUDOR    POKTS  '  lo. 

(1517-47),  lies  less  on  the  surface  than  in  the  case  of  Barclay, 
Their  ambition  led  them  far  from  the  path  of  mere  translation. 
The  little  group  falls  chronologically  and  critically  into  two 
virtually  independent  pairs.  wSkelton  and  Hawes  differ  much 
in  manner  and  matter,  but  they  were  precise  contemporaries, 
and  they  are  nearly  akin  with  the  past  in  their  primitive  senti- 
ment. W'yatt  and  Surrey  are  of  a  younger  generation,  and,  for 
all  their  uncouthness,  had  a  touch  of  lyric  intensity  and  a  flexi- 
ble temper  which  encouraged  the  pursuit  of  novel  effects.  Very 
distantly  they  heralded  some  coming  developments.  The  part 
they  play  on  the  stage  of  British  literary  history  is  somewhat 
shadowy  and  solitary.     But  their  affinity  is  with  the  future. 

The  chronological  interval  between  these  twin  pairs  of 
poets  exposed  them  to  French  influences  of  somewhat  different 
kinds.  Hawes  and  Skelton  began  their  work  late  in  the 
fifteenth  century,  and  were  coeval  with  the  latest  survivors  of 
French  mediaevalism,  with  the  '  rhetoriqueurs '  who,  though 
they  absorbed  something  of  the  new  classical  learning 
drew  most  of  their  inspiration  from  an  era  that  was  dying. 
The  current  French  poetry  which  offered  its  stimulus  to 
Hawes  and  Skelton  mainly  consisted  of  allegories  on  the 
pattern  of  Le  Maire  de  Beiges  or  Gringoire,  or  of  verse 
chronicles  of  recent  and  contemporary  history,  or  of  crude 
dramatic  satire  which  attacked  with  an  undiscriminating 
insolence  political  and  theological  opinion  or  social  life. 

More  promising  were  the  French  auspices  which  smiled  on 
Wyatt  and  Surrey.  They  were  young  enough  to  witness  the 
glorious  advent  of  Clement  Marot  (i 497-1 544),  who  carried 
on  the  mediaevalized  tradition  of  the  '  rhetoriqueurs  ',  but 
touched  it  with  the  hand  of  genius.  Marot 's  spirit  caught  the 
sunset  glow  of  the  Middle  Age,  and  fused  it  w^ith  the  dawning 
light  of  the  French  Renaissance. 

VII 

French  Influence  on  Skelton  and  Hawes 
From    the    days    of    Chaucer    in    the    fourteenth   century 
Englishmen  had  acknowledged  the  fascination  of  the  metrical 
dexterity  and  variety  of  French   poetry.      The  tune  often 


'102  ^■'k'E'NCH    INFLUENCE    1500-1550 

attracted  Englishmen  more  potently  than  the  words.     The 

1  first  Tudor  poets  were  loyal  to  the  Chaucerian  traditions  of 

I  dependence    on    French    metre.       They   pursued   almost  in- 

1  voluntarily  the  old  habit  of  naturalizing  French  rhyme.     The 

matter  was   often    a  loan    from    France.      But    the    metrical 

chains  which  bound   early  Tudor  poetry  to  the  French  muse 

are  more  promising  features  of  the  picture  than  the  links  of 

topic.      There  was  little  in   contemporary  French  verse   to 

quicken  English  poetic  thought.     But  the  French  metres  were 

capable  of  increasing  the  pliability  of  the  English  language 

and  of  English  prosody. 

The  mediaeval  French  poets  were  marvellously  fertile  in 
the  development  of  metrical  forms,  and  fully  warranted  English 
emulation.  Ballades  and  rondeaus,  virelays  and  chansons,  are 
the  best  known  though  by  no  means  the  only  metrical 
inventions  of  mediaeval  France,  and  they  were  wrought  to 
melodious  effect  by  many  generations  of  French  poets  before 
the  Renaissance  came  into  being.  The  French  contemporaries 
of  Hawes  and  Skelton  were  loyal  to  the  old  forms,  but  were 
prone  to  pedantic  emendation  which  often  issued  in  grotesque 
puerilities,  in  shallow  fopperies  of  rhyme.  The  sensitive 
taste  of  the  full-fledged  Renaissance  was  offended  by  the 
*  rhetoriqueurs' '  extravagances,  and  the  whole  mediaeval  usage 
was  quickly  involved  in  an  ill  repute  which  was  not  wholly 
deserved.  The  old  metrical  standards  were  rejected  for  new. 
Skelton  and  Hawes,  came  for  the  most  part  under  the  sway 
of  these  unregenerate  crudities  and  eccentricities.  Both  derived 
inspiration  from  the  French  '  rhetoriqueurs ',  who  were  their 
contemporaries. 

Skelton,  although  capable  at  times  of  gentle  tones,  was  in 
the  main  a  bitter  and  aggressive  satirist  of  persons  and  things. 
For  Frenchmen  he  showed  small  personal  friendship.  He 
attacked  a  distinguished  French  humanist  and  historian,  Robert 
Gaguin,  who  was  ambassador  at  Henry  X^IIl's  court.  The 
foreigner  had  frowned  on  him  'full  angerly  and  pale'.  But 
despite  his  insular  professions,  Skelton's  work  pays  ample 
tribute  to  French  culture.  It  abounds  in  French  words  and 
phrases.      He  christened  his  diatribe  against  his  French  foe 


./ 


ski<:lton's  fri^:nch  Mouia.s  103 

Gaguin  with  the  French  substantive  Rccule  (i.e.  retort).  One 
of  his  best  known  poems,  an  allegorical  description  of  the  vices 
of  courtiers,  called  The  bmvge  of  Coiwt,  employs,  oddly  but 
characteristicalty,  an  anglicized  form  of  the  French  word 
(^^/^r//^  J^mouth)_|n_  ^'^^  sense  of  '  rations '.  A  translation  by 
Skelton  of  a  popular  nnciiacval  ethical  treatise,  Guillaume  de 
Guilleville's  Pelerinage  de  la  vie  Juunaine,  attests,  too,  a 
French  affinity,  and  an  involuntary  respect  for  the  French 
mediaeval  tradition.^ 

More  important  are  the  signs  that  Skelton  gave  of  the  close 
attention  with  which  he  watched  the  poetic  rhetoricians  who 
ruled  the  French  realm  of  letters  in  his  own  time.  From  them 
he  eagerly  caught  hints.  Le  Maire  de  Beiges,  the  most  versatile 
of  the  rhetorical  poets  in  F>ance  at  the  opening  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  gained  much  fame  from  a  playful  piece  called  l 
L'Antaiit  vert.  There  'the  green  lover  ',  i.  e.  a  parrot,  recites  \ 
two  lively  addresses  or  coiites  in  verse  to  the  bird's  mistress, 
a  patroness  of  the  poet,  Margaret,  Duchess  of  Burgundy. 
Skelton^edicated  to  Queen  Catherine  of  Arragon,  Henry  VlII's 
first  queen,  two  rambling  satires  called  Speke^  Parrot,  which 
he  also  placed  in  a  parrot's  lips.  It  is  clear  whence  came  the 
suggestion.  Skelton's  voluble  bird  is  no  less  polyglot  than 
the  pet  of  the  Burgundian  duchess  in  Le  Maire 's  narration, 
'  Dowse  (i.  e.  douce)  French  of  Paris  Parrot  can  cerne  (i.  e.  • 
discern,  understand) '  is  one  of  Skelton's  Anglo-French  testi- 
monies to  his  parrot's  accomplishments,  and  many  a  descrip- 
tive note  appended  by  Skelton  to  his  poem  is  in  ill-printed 
French.  The  English  parrot  has  a  far  more  strident  note 
than  the  French  bird,  but  the  kinship  is  not  in  doubt. 

Yet  Skelton's  chief  debt  to  French  influence  only  becomes 
visible  when  we  compare  with  French  verse  the  English  poet's 

*  This  achievement  illustrates  the  persistent  popularity  in  England  of 
comparatively  valueless  French  mediaeval  literature.  Skelton  here 
anglicized  part  of  I.e  Roman  des  Trois  Pelerhiages,  a  long  moralizing 
paraphrase  of  /w  Roman  dc  la  Rose  (the  old  French  allegory),  which  was 
composed  in  the  fourteenth  century  and  was  already  popular  in  Chaucer's 
England.  Skelton's  translation  is  lost,  but  he  mentions  it  in  the  list  of 
works  which  he  supplies  in  A  Garland  of  Laurel.  Lydgate  had  already 
translated  the  same  work.  A  translation  of  another  portion  of  Guilleville's 
gigantic  work  Caxton  printed  in  1483  as  The  Pilgrimage  of  the  Sonde. 


I04  FRENCH   INFLUENCE    1500  1550 

characteristic  metre  of  short  lines  which  vary  in  number  of 
syllables  from  four  to  six,  and  rhyme  usually  by  couplets,  but 
at  times  four,  five,  or  six  times  over.  This  metre,  which  is 
known  in  England  by  the  specific  epithet  Skeltonian,  may  be 
originally  a  Low  Latin  invention.  Something  very  like  it 
reached  France  in  the  early  middle  ages,  but  vSkel ton's  French 
contemporaries  gave  it  a  new  life,  and  they  may  well  be 
regarded  as  its  parents.  No  English  poet  of  any  earlier 
epoch  had  ventured  systematically  on  lines  of  fewer  syllables 
than  eight ;  alternations  of  lines  of  seven  syllables  were  occa- 
sional but  rare.    Of  Skelton's  abbreviated  scheme  he  wrote  : 

(Though  my  rime  be  ragged 
Tattered  and  jagged. 
Rudely  rainbeaten. 
Rusty  and  motheaten. 
If  ye  take  well  therewith 
[It  hath  in  it  some  pith. 

'It  is  not  difficult  to  show  that  the  '  pith '  of  Skeltonian  verse 
— its  short,  jolting  gallop— is  of  recent  French  breeding,  or  to 
^how  that  its  most  telling  features,  which  have  no  English 
precedents  of  earlier  dates,  are  matched  in  popular  French 
verse  of  vSkelton's  own  generation. 

Probably  the  most  popular  French  poem  which  was  written 
and  published  in  Skelton's  early  manhood  was  a  spacious 
epic  on  the  reign  of  Charles  VII  (who  died  in  1461),  Les 
Vigiles  de  la  mort  de  Charles  VII.  The  author  was 
Martial  de  Paris,  who  is  often  called  Martial  d'Auvergne 
(i  440-1 508).  His  spirited  verse  is  said  to  have  been  sung  by 
French  peasants  while  they  laboured  in  the  field.  Martial 
specially  loved  the  jog-trot  melody  of  five-  and  six-syllable 
lines,  with  an  ingenious  rhyming  scheme  which  pleasingly 
relieves  the  monotony  of  the  brief  line : 

Mieux  vaut  la  liesse, 
L'amour  et  simplesse 
De  bergiers  pasteurs, 
Qu'avoir  a  largesse 
Or,  argent,  richesse, 
Ni  la  gentilesse 
De  ces  grans  seigneurs : 


THE   vSKlCLTONIAN   METRE  105 

Car  ils  ont  douleurs 
Et  dcs  maux  crreigneurs  ; 
Mais  pour  nos  labeurs 
Nous  avons  sans  cesse 
Les  beaux  pres  et  fleurs, 
Fruitaiges,  odeurs, 
Et  joye  a  nos  coeurs, 
Sans  mal  qui  nous  blesse. 
Vivent  pastoureaux, 
Brebis  et  agneaux ! 
Cornez,  chalumelles  : 
Filles  et  pucelles, 
Prenez  vos  chappeaux 
De  roses  vermeilles, 
Et  dansez  sous  treilles, 
Au  chant  des  oyseaux.^ 

Skelton  emulated  such  experiments  with  slight  variations. 
He  never  reached  the  French  level  of  grace  or  gaiety ;  yet  in 
salutations  to  his  lady  patronesses  in  his  Garland  of  Laurel^ 
he  essays  many  a  pleasing  innovation  in  English  prosody  on 
the  French  pattern.  Here  is  an  example  of  Martial  de  Paris's 
five-  and  six-syllable  hues  in  Skeltonian  English,  which  the 
English  poet  addressed  to  a  well-wisher  : 

vSterre  of  the  morow  gray, 
The  blossom  on  the  spray, 
The  freshest  flowre  of  May, 
Maydenly  demure, 
Of  womanhode  the  lure. 
Whereof  I  make  you  sure, 
It  were  an  hevenly  helthe. 
It  were  an  endless  welth, 
A  lyfe  for  God  himselfe. 
To  here  this  nightingale 
Amonge  the  byrdes  smale 
Warbelying  in  the  vale. 

In  a  cognate  strain  Skelton  apostrophizes  '  Maystres 
Margaret  Hussey ' : 

Mirry  Margaret, 

As  mydsomer  flowre, 

Jentill  as  fawcon 

Or  hawke  of  the  tovvre : 

^  Les  Poeies  fran^ots  JusquW  Malherbe  (Paris,  1824,  t.  II,  pp.  282-3). 


io6  FRENCH    INMAJl'.NCK    1500   1550 

With  solace  and  g-ladnes, 
Moche  mirthe  and  no  madnes, 
All  good  and  no  badnes. 

But  vSkelton  mainly  devoted  his  short  rhyming  lines  to 
satiric  raillery.  Again  he  echoes  the  metre,  phrase,  and  senti- 
ment of  the  brief  French  verse.  Here  is  an  example  of '  Skel- 
tonese  '  from  the  poet's  abusive  censures  of  Sir  Thomas  More 

But  this  bawcock  doctor, 
And  purgatory  proctor, 
Waketh  now  for  wages ; 
And,  as  a  man  that  rages, 
Or  overcome  with  ages, 
Disputeth  per  ambages^ 
To  help  these  parasites, 
And  naughty  hypocrites, 
With  legends  of  lies, 
Feigned  fantasies, 
And  very  vanities, 
Called  verities. 
Unwritten  and  unknown, 
But  as  they  be  blown 
From  liar  to  liar ; 
Invented  by  a  frier. 

/    In  France  such  irregular  truncations  of  metre  were  chiefly, 

/although  not  exclusively,  consecrated  at  the  beginning  of  the 

[Uixteenth  century  to  the  purposes  of  the  scurrilous  drama.    In 

a  French  morality  penned  in  Skelton's  early  life,  a  character 

personating  a  discontented  monk  attacked  the  superiors  of 

his  monastery  in  a  metrical  key  which  adumbrates  Skelton's 

_manner.     The  general  effect  is  almost  identical : 

Nostre  baillif  superieur, 
Nostre  prieur,  et  souprieur, 
Nous  deffendent  de  nous  galer, 
De  rien  voir,  d'ouir,  de  parler, 
De  manger  ne  chair,  ne  pouesson, 
De  boy  re  de  nulle  bouesson, 
Sur  paines  de  leurs  disciplines ; 
Mais  eux  avant  dire  matines, 
Leurs  lessons  et  leurs  oresmus, 
lis  faisaient  tous  gaudcainus} 

'  Petit  de  Julleville,  La  Comedie  et  les  nuvitrs  en  France  au  tnoyen  age 
(Paris,  1886,  pp.  222-3). 


1 


THE  ENGLISH  VOGUR  OF  SHORT  M1':TR1:s    107 

vSkelton's  rough  tongue  was  clearly  practising  a  French  [ 
tune.     The  macaronic  tags  of  Latin  in  l^oth  the  French  and 
EngHsh  lines  tell  their  own  tale. 

Short-syllabled  metres  were  familiar  to  later  generations  of 
Tudor  England.  .Skelton's  example  was  largely  responsible 
for  the  vogue.  Yet  the  fashion  was  also  maintained  for  a  time  in  \ 
France  after  Skelton's  day,  especially  by  satiric  writers  for  the 
French  stage.  Alarot,  likewise,  practised  it,  with  an  improved 
urbanity.  There  were  curious  adaptations  of  it,  too,  in  the 
supreme  developments  of  French  Renaissance  poetry.  Later 
French  practitioners  must  share  with  Skelton  whatever  credit 
attaches  to  the  subsequent  dissemination  of  the  metre  in 
England.  Wyatt's  experiments  with  it  are  doubtless  due  to  1 
his  study  of  Marot.  The  uses  to  which  John  Heywood  and  / 
other  embryonic  dramatists  put  it  were  the  fruit  of  his  acquain- 
tance with  contemporary  F'rench  drama.  In  Elizabethan  days, 
when  this  metrical  mode  was  reckoned  grotesque  and  out  of 
date,  it  was  currently  cited  among  eccentricities  that  were 
peculiar  to  French  poetry.  An  Elizabethan  parodist  of 
French  verse  was  guilty  of  this  inanity : 

Down  I  sat, 

I  sat  down, 
Where  Flora  has  bestowed  her  graces ; 

Green  it  was, 

It  was  green. 
Far  passing  other  places.^ 

The  author  unjustifiably  assigned  his  imaginary  French 
original  to  Ronsard,  The  insolent  attribution  is  merely  of 
interest  as  evidence  that  the  short  trotting  verse  was 
recognized  to  be  a  French  importation. 

Skelton's  contemporary  and  chief  poetic  rival,  Stephen 
tjawes,  pursued  a  more  conventional  aim.  His  topics  bring 
him  into  almost  closer  association  with  the  expiring  efforts  of 
French  mediaevalism.  There  are  indications  that  he  closely 
studied  the  poetry  of  his  English  predecessors,  Chaucer, 
Gower,  and  Lydgate.  But  it  was  in  no  spirit  of  disloyalty 
to  the  poetic  practices  of  those  masters  that  he  supplemented 

'  'YzxXiorC?,  News  out  of  Purgatory,  I590- 


io8  FRENCH    INFLUENCE    1 500-1 550 

/their  tuition  by  French  instruction.  He  mainly  devoted  his 
pen  to  allegorical  romance  on  the  old  French  pattern,  which 
the  Roman  de  la  Rose  had  created  for  Europe  as  well  as  for 
France,  and  to  which  the  '  rh-etoriqueurs '  were  giving  in  his 
time  a  new  popularity.  Hawes's  seven -lined  stanza  is  of 
stubborn  antiquity,  but  his  allegorical  machinery  closely 
reflects  the  current  French  standards.  Hawes's  Example  of 
Virtice  shows  Youth's  adventure  in  pursuit  of  Wisdom,  much 
as  Le  Maire  portrays  the  like  struggle  in  Le  Teniple  d' Hon- 
iietLr  et  de  Vertu.  Hawes's  chief  work,  The  Pastime  of 
Pleasure^  or  the  History  of  Graicnd  Amour  and  La  Bel 
Pncel^  although  it  expounds  minutely  the  academic  curriculum 
of  the  day  and  personifies  the  topics  of  academic  study  as 
well  as  virtues  and  vices,  has  very  few  features  to  distinguish 
it  from  the  rhetorical  type  of  French  allegory.  Hawes's  hero 
and  heroine,  Graund  Amour  and  La  Bel  Pucel,  bear  French 
names,  and  that  circumstance  goes  far  to  support  a  theory 
which  Warton  advanced  on  wide  grounds  of  style  and  senti- 
ment, that  the  allegory  has  a  French  original  which  lies  con- 
cealed in  manuscript.^  The  whole  title  and  treatment  have  the 
ring  of  the  long-lived  French  convention  to  which  even  Alarot 
as  a  youth  subsequently  paid  court  in  his  Temple  de  Cupidou. 
Alexander  Barclay  was  translating  Pierre  Gringoire's  Chdteatc 
de  Labour  near  the  same  date  as  Hawes  was  engaged  on  his 
Pastime.  Hawes  marches  in  Gringoire's  regiment.  His  alle- 
gorical figures  of  Correction,  Falsehood,  Perseverance,  are 
of  near  kin  to  Gringoire's  Chastisement,  Tricherie  (i.e.  Trea- 
chery), or  Talent  de  bien  falre.  It  is  easy  to  perceive  how 
I  busily  French  allegorical  ingenuity  was  fertilizing  the  English 
jsoil  whence  vSpenser's  Faerie  Qnecne  was  in  due  time  to 
spring. 

*  Very  early  in  the  sixteenth  century  numerous  editions  appeared  in  Paris 
of  a  French  didactic  poem  called  Le  Passc-tcnipsde  tout  hoDiinc  et  de  toute 
femnie^  by  Guillaume  Alexis,  prieur  de  Buzy,  a  voluminous  poet,  who 
died  in  i486.  The  word  '  pastime'  of  Hawes's  title  seems  to  have  been 
one  of  Caxton's  many  anglicizations  of  the  French.  It  reproduces  the 
French  *  passe-temps '. 


MAROT  AND   ALAMANNI  109 

VIII 

MAROT   and   AlAMANNI  :    WVATT   AND    vSURREY 

Twenty  years  may  be  reckoned  as  the  interval  of  time 
which  separates  the  flourishing  day  of  Skelton  and  Hawes 
from  the  epoch  of  Wyatt's  and  Surrey's  poetic  activity.  The 
later  scene  differs  much  from  the  earlier.  In  the  work  of  the 
younger  Tudor  poets  w^e  are  in  the  presence  of  a  new  element 
of  which  their  precursors  knew  little  or  nothing.  French 
influence  is  by  no  means  absent,  and  new  harmonies  were 
sounding  in  France,  yet  a  virgin  impulse  coming  from  Italy 
gives  an  unprecedented  colour  to  the  younger  Tudor  poetry. 
The  precise  force  which  the  new  foreign  element  acquired  in 
Tudor  England  and  the  avenues  of  its  entry  give  room  for 
discussion,  but  the  Italian  note  is  not  to  be  mistaken  in  the 
work  of  Wyatt  and  Surrey. 

Elizabethan  critics  claimed  that  the  poetic  labour  of  Wyatt 
and  Surrey  began  a  new  era  in  English  literature,  and  that 
their  innovating  tendency  ow^ed  its  virtue  solely  to  liberal 
draughts  of  the  poetic  inspiration  of  Italy.  The  Elizabethan 
critic,  Puttenham,  in  his  Arte  of  English  Poesie^  penned  these 
familiar  sentences  in  1 589 : 

In  the  latter  end  of  the  same  king's  [Henry  VIII's]  reign 
sprung  up  a  new  company  of  courtly  makers,  of  whom 
Sir  Thomas  Wyatt  the  elder  and  Henry  Earl  of  Surrey  were 
the  two  chieftains,  who  having  travelled  into  Italy,  and  there 
tasted  the  sweet  and  stately  measures  and  style  of  the  Italian 
poesy,  as  novices  newly  crept  out  of  the  schools  of  Dante, 
Ariosto,  and  Petrarch,  they  greatly  polished  our  rude  aiid 
homely  manner  of  vulgar  Poesy,  from  that  it  had  been  before, 
and  for  that  cause  may  justly  be  said  to  be  the  first  reformers 
of  our  English  metre  and  style.  -~J 

There  is  obvious  evidence  of  Wyatt's  and  Surrey's  indebted- 
ness to  Italian  effort,  notably  to  the  muse  of  Petrarch.     The 
influence  of  Dante  and  Ariosto  is  not  apparent.     The  sonnet,\ 
to  which  Petrarch's  endeavours  first  lent  popular  favour,  was\ 
introduced   by   Wyatt   and    Surrey    into    England.       They/ 
translated   or    paraphrased  many  of  Petrarch's   quatorzains. 


no  FRENCH   INFLUENCE    1500  1550 

No  poetic  instrument  was  subsequently  to  achieve  greater 
glory  at  English  hands  than  the  sonnet,  and  the  pioneers  are 
not  to  be  denied  their  meed  of  honour,  if  their  experiments  are 
for  the  most  part  crudely  and  harshly  modulated.  Surrey 
was  also  the  first  English  writer  of  blank  verse.  That  form 
of  poetic  endeavour  has  played  in  English  literature  an  even 
nobler  part  than  the  sonnet,  and  the  debt  to  Surrey  is  enhanced 
proportionately.  But  Surrey  has  no  better  claim  to  the 
invention  of  blank  verse  than  to  that  of  the  sonnet.  Blank 
verse  was.  another  Italian  invention. 

The  invasion  of  France  by  Italian  culture  began  under 
Francis  I  but  bore  its  ripened  literary  fruit  in  the  reigns  of  his 
son  and  grandsons.  Not  until  the  reign  of  the  French  king 
Henry  II,  the  contemporary  of  the  English  sovereigns  Ed- 
w^ard  VI  and  Mary  Tudor,  did  either  the  sonnet  or  blank 
verse  become  familiar  to  France.  Yet  Italian  culture  made  its 
primary  assault  on  French  taste  in  the  generation  of  Wyatt 
and  Surrey,  even  if  it  was  during  the  succeeding  epoch  that 
the  Italian  spirit  helped  to  refashion  French  poetry. 

The  signs  of  Wyatt's  and  Surrey's  Italian  inspiration  are  not 
to  be  mistaken,  but  there  are  subsidiary  aspects  of  the  Italian 
influence  which  link  Wyatt's  and  Surrey's  work  with  contem- 
porary France  more  closely  than  Puttenham  perceived.  They 
learned  much  of  the  poetic  art  of  Italy  from  an  Italian  poet 
who  was  domiciled  in  their  day  in  Paris  and  was  bringing  to 
1  French  notice  the  new  modes  of  poetic  satire,  of  blank  verse 
land  the  sonnet ;  while  the  English  poets'  debt  to  the  indi- 
genous poetry  of  France  calls  for  a  fuller  acknowledgement 
than  has  yet  been  rendered. 

Both  English  poets  had  intimate  personal  acquaintance 
j  with  France.  Wyatt  alone  of  the  pair  went  to  Italy,  and  his 
/sojourn  was  not  prolonged.  Surrey  never  passed  the  Alps, 
/  save  in  the  fictions  of  the  critics.  Surrey  and  Wyatt  alike 
spent  much  time  at  the  French  court.  The  former  as  tutor 
[ol^Henry  VIII's  natural  son,  the  Earl  of  Richmond,  lived  for 
1  nearly  a  year  at  Paris  or  Fontainebleau  with  Trancis  I  and 
]his  family.  Wyatt  was  repeatedly  in  the  French  capital  on 
[diplomatic  missions,  and  he  mixed  in  cultivated  French  society. 


SURREY   AND    WYATT   IN   FRANCl-  iii 

The  ambitious  luiglisli  votaries  of  the  muse  were  not  Hkely 
to  resist  the  allurino  appeals  which  contemporary  literature  in 
France  made  to  their  allegiance. 

1  It  was  in  France  rather  than  in  Italy  that  both  Wyatt  and 
Surrey  acquired  a  substantial  measure  of  the  Italian  taste  and 
sympathy  which  were  reflected  in  the  manner  and  matter  of 
their  poetry.  The  two  luiglishmen  occasionally  translated  or 
paraphrased  sonnets  and  odes  direct  from  Petrarch  or  from 
his  Italian  disciples.  Yet,  while  Wyatt  and  Surrey  sojourned 
in  F'rench  territory  they  had  opportunities  of  studying-  current 
Italian  literature  which  was  in  course  of  publication  in  France 
at  the  time.  Thus  in  all  probability  were  Wyatt  and  Surrey/ 
most  effectually  brought  in  Paris  under  the  Italian  literary  yoke.) 
At  every  turn  in  our  story,  Paris  presents  itself  as  the  chiefl 
mission-station  of  Renaissance  culture. 

The  voice  of  the  native  muse  of  France  also  gained  the  i 
two  F2nglish  poets'  ear,  while  they  were  at  the  French  court.  I 
^^\  Clemenl_Marot  was  the  king  of  F>ench  poets  in  the  epoch  | 
of  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  and  comparison  of  them  with  him  is 
inevitable.     In  his  own  country  Marot's  fame  largely  suffered 
eclipse  with  his  death  in  1544.     The  Ronsardian  dynasty  of 
the  ripened  Renaissance  was  inclined  to  identify  him  with 
mediaeval   barbarism.      In    England  his   original  reputation 
lingered  longer.     It  began  at  the  call  of  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  1' 
and  expanded   later.      Wyatt   caught    inspiration   from   the! 
versatility  of  Marot,  and  Spenser  echoed  some  of  his  strains.    I 

His  father,  Jean_Marot^.a  .poetaster  of  the  rhetorical  school, 
edited  the  work  of  the  mediaeval  master,  Alain  Chartier, 
whose  name  Caxton  had  made  familiar  to  English  ears. 
Clement's  boyish  breeding  roused  in  him  lasting  affection 
for  the  past  or  the  passing  literature  of  his  country.  Beginning 
life  as  a  nobleman's  page,  and  accompanying  his  master  to 
the  wars  in  Italy,  he  enjoyed  in  youth  a  fleeting  glimpse  of 
Italian  culture,  but  the  foreign  influence  left  small  impress  on 
his  staunch  Gallic  spirit.  Some  sparse  translations  from 
Petrarch  are  almost  all  that  his  muse  owed  to  Italy.  He 
drank  deeper  of  the  classical  learning  of  the  Renaissance,  and 
paid   tribute  to  the  apostle  of  Renaissance   scholarship   by 


3 


112  FRENCH    INFLUENCE    1500  1550 

N  turning  into  French  verse  two  of  Erasmus's  colloquies. 
He  knew  no  Greek,  but  his  study  of  Latin  coloured  his 
imagery.  He  interpreted  in  Frexich  translations  a  portion  of 
Ovid's  MetamorpJioses,  and,  through  the  Latin,  the  Greek 
Musaeus's  poetic  fable  of  Hero  and  Leander.  Marot's 
modernization  of  Musaeus's  beautiful  idyll  had  a  numerous 
progeny,  and  included,  half  a  century  afterwards,  the  English 
version  which  Marlowe  began  and  Chapman  completed. 
Marot  translated,  too,  an  eclogue  of  Vergil,  but  his  native 
'  vivacity  is  seen  to  better  advantage  in  original  eclogues  from 
his  pen.     There  he  followed  in  Vergil's  path,  but  classical 

(poetry  only  lightly  moulded  his  fancy.  The  original  notes 
of  his  eclogues  were  robust  enough  to  lend  inspiration  to 
Spenser's  Shepheards  Calender^  the  earliest  flower  of  great 
Elizabethan  poetry.  Marot  wrote  epigrams  in  which  at  times 
there  is  an  echo  of  Martial,  but  far  more  often  the  sting  is  the 
Frenchman's  own  inspiration. 

Marot's  Muse  in  her  most  characteristic  phase  was  nurtured 
at  home.  She  was  steeped  in  the  Gallic  spirit  of  blitheness 
and  of  banter.  With  much  of  his  wonted  airiness  Marot  in 
early  days  paid  tribute  to  the  exigent  convention  of  mediaeval 
France  by  penning  a  pleasant  allegory  of  love's  supremacy 
over  life,  called  Le  Temple  de  Cupidon.  There  the  poet,  in 
the  vein  of  the  old  Romati  de  la  Rose,  makes  adventurous 
search  for  Jeune  Amour,  whom  he  finally  meets  in  Cupid's 
temple  amid  flowers  and  birds  which  gaily  haunt  the  adorable 
shrine.    In  less  ambitious  efforts,  however,  he  achieved  his  chief 

!  triumphs.  Marot  worshipped  at  \'illon's  shrine  and  edited  his 
poetry.  Many  of  Marot's  rondeaus,  ballades,  and  chansons 
might  have  been  written  by  Villon  in  his  more  refined  mood. 
The  ballade  of  the  selfish  reprobate.  Friar  Lupin,  rings  with 
that  tranquil  sort  of  laughter  which  is  rarely  heard  outside 
/  France.  The  fableof  the  Zzi?;/  rt;/<^  the  Rai  breathes  a  buoyant 
Vsimplicity  and  a  rhythmical  ease,  which  are  thoroughly  French 
and  gave  La  Fontaine  a  model.  A  martial  note  of  patriotism 
also  sounds  at  times  in  Marot's  lyric  verse,  and  the  stirring 
ballade  which  he  addressed  in  1521  to  the  Duke  d'Alen^on 
when  leading  the  armies  of  France  against  the  Low  German 


CLKMENT    MAROT  113 

troops    of    the    empire    is    in    a    dithyrambic    strain    which 
adumbrates  the  animated  chant  of  the  Marseillaise.^ 

Marot's  poetry  in  its  normal  guise  has  the  charm  of  good 
conversation.  He  does  not  strain  the  note.  He  is  spontaneous,  [ 
intelligible,  and  melodious.  He  gossips  fluently  in  poetical  i 
epistles  to  patrons  and  friends  over  his  servant's  pilferings  oif 
his  creditors'  importunities.  An  unpretentious  grace  and  aj 
cheerfulness  which  mocks  at  sorrow  rarely  forsake  him  amid 
his  voluble  confessions  of  pov'erty  and  misfortune. 

Grief  was  indeed  familiar  to  the  Gallic  bard,  and  it  mainly 
came  from  a  cause  which  could  but  evoke  sympathy  in 
England.  The  Reformed  faith  appealed  to  his  idiosyncrasy. 
Although  he  denied  that  he  was  a  '  Lutheriste ',  he  openly 
censured  Papal  doctrine,  and  his  patron,  Francis  I,  could  not 
protect  him  from  persecution  in  Paris  at  the  hands  of  the 
guardians  of  the  Catholic  creed.  The  French  king's  sister, 
the  cultured  Queen  of  Navarre,  offered  him  an  asylum  in 
that  court  of  arts  and  letters  at  Nerac  over  which  she 
presided  for  some  two  and  twenty  years  (1527- 1549).  Marot 
requited  the  hospitality  of  his  royal  mistress  in  charming 
eulogies,  but  even  his  patroness  could  not  give  him  lasting 
security,  and  he  left  P"rance  to  become  the  guest  in  Italy  of 
Queen  Margaret's  sister,  the  Duchess  of  Ferrara,  who  reflected 
her  kinswoman's  curious  union  of  evangelical  piety  and 
liberal  humanism.  But  Marot  was  a  Parisian  whose  spirit 
drooped  when  he  w^as  absent  from  his  beloved  city.  He 
obtained  permission  to  return  home  on  condition  that  he 
abjured  his  heterodoxy.  Before  long,  however,  he  involuntarily 
renewed  his  old  offence  by  the  bold  innovation  of  versifying 
in  French  some  fifty  of  the  Psalms.  Marot's  P'rench  render- 
ings of  the  Psalms  are  not  great  poems,  although  they  rank 
with  the  best  vernacular  versions  in  any  language.  In  poetic 
temper  they  are  far  superior  to  the  famous  English  version  of 
Hopkins  and  Sternhold,  which  was  undertaken  six  or  seven 
years  after.  Marot's  phraseology  is  not  defaced  by  the  homely 
tameness  of  the  English.     His  metre  is  perhaps  too  jocund, 

'  Marot,  CEuvres,  ii,  71-c. 

LEE  I 


TI4  FRENCH   INFLUENCE    1500  1550 

too  merry  for  the  solemnity  of  the  theme ;  but  therein  Marot 
was  loyal  to  his  native  temperament.  Like  many  of  his 
countrymen,  he  could  reconcile  piety  with  cheerfulness.  In 
any  case  Marot's  version  of  the  Psalms  won  him  notoriety 
which  brought  him  unlooked  for  rewards  and  penalties.  Set 
to  popular  tunes,  the  French  verses  became  almost  national 
anthems.  Frenchmen  of  every  religious  belief  got  them  by 
heart.  Even  Francis  I  hummed  them  in  the  galleries  of  Fon- 
tainebleau.  But  the  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne  were  suspicious 
of  their  fascination.  The  sour  dogmatists  deemed  Marot's 
versification  of  the  scriptural  poems  an  incitement  to  heresy, 
and  their  threats  of  vengeance  exiled  Marot  once  again  from 
his  native  country.     This  time  he  was   not  to  return.     For 

/  a  short  while  he  took  refuge  in  Geneva.  There  the  austere 
atmosphere  proved  uncongenial.     He  was  guilty  of  the  sin  of 

i    playing  the  game  of  backgammon,  and  retreated  before  the 

■  scandal  to  Turin,  where  he  died  at  the  age  of  47,  in  1544. 
He  was  a  late  survival  of  old  France,  and  one  of  the 
greatest  of  the  old  French  poets.  Death  silenced  his  lyre 
just  before  French  poetry  openly  gloried  in  the  yoke  of 
ancient  Greece  and  modern  Italy.  Half  a  dozen  years  later 
the  tide  of  Renaissance  sentiment  reached  its  flood,  and  Marot 
was  driven   from  his  place  of  pre-eminence   in  the  French 

j  Parnassus.     But   his  influence   continued  to  work  in  Tudor 

\  England  after  it  was  stilled  in  France. 

Marot  was  the  chief  French  poet  with  whom  W^yatt  and 
Surrey  were  contemporary,  but  his  labour  was  not  done  in 
isolation.  Poetasters  of  the  period  were  legion,  and  despite 
their  crabbed  power  often  engaged  in  more  or  less  friendly 
rivalry  with  Marot.  Occasionally  a  promising  experiment 
was  made  by  a  contemporary  in  fields  into  which  Marot  did 
not  venture.  Such  a  one  was  Antfiine  Heroet,  a  protege  of 
Queen  Margaret  of  Navarre,  Xi'hose  chiefpoem  was  a  philo- 
sophic disquisition  on  Plato's  conceptk)n_of  love,  which  was 
entitled  La  Par/aide  Ainye  (^The  Perfect  Mistress).  This 
was  publisHe^cTby  tHe  scholar  printer,  Dolet,at  Lyons  in  1542.^ 

'  Heroet  became  Bishop  of  Digne  in  1552,  and  died  in  1568,  ayed 
about  seventy-six.     An  admirable  edition  of  his  LEiivres  I'oi'tiijues,  edited 


SAINT-GEL AIS    AND   ALAMANNI  115 

The  tone   is  for  the  most  part  prosaic  ;  but  there  are  oases       / 
of  ethereal  fancy  and  refinement,  which  anticipate  by  half  a      ' 
century  Spenser's  fervid  portrayals  of  heavenly  love.    Heroet's 
motto  might  well  be  Spenser's  lines : 

Such  high  conceit  of  that  celestial  fire, 
The  base-born  brood  of  blindness  cannot  guess. 
Nor  ever  dare  their  dunghill  thoughts  aspire 
Unto  so  lofty  pitch  of  perfectness. 

But  Heroet's  pure  aspirations  passed  for  the  time  unnoticed 
in    England.       Marot    easily   ruled    the    E"rench    Parnassus 
in  the    era    of    vSpenser's    predecessors,    and    by   them   his 
supremacy     went     unquestioned.        Only    one    writer    was 
reckoned  even  among  his  own  countrymen  to  approach  his       1      '  i  U 
throne— Melin    de_  Saint-Gelais    (1491-1559).    a   fashionable  I ''^V^^^ 
courtier  and  ecclesiastic  of  the  orthodox  type,  who  acknow-    '  I^^^-vm^^^ 
ledged  less  grudgingly  than  Marot   the   seduction  of  Italy. 
His  early  biographer  indulgently  credited  the  sweet  Italian 
air  with  conveying  a  rare  refinement  and  a  classical  purity 
to  the  crudity  of  Melin's  native  temperament.     Melin   seems 
responsible   for    the    earliest    E'rench   experiment   in   Italian 
sojineteering,  and  he  has  the  distinction  of  adapting  his  words 
to   lute  accompaniments   of  his   own   composition.     But  he  1 
hardly  merited  his  temporary  vogue.     His  verse  is,  for  the 
most  part,  pedantic  artifice,  and  his  obscenity  passes  permis- 
sible bounds.     He  lacks  Marot's  fresh  wit  and  airy  fluency. 
Wyatt  gives  occasional  signs  of  acquaintance  with  his  work; 
but  Melin  had  little  stimulus  to  offer  foreign  students.^ 

A  living  figure  of  an  alien  race,  an  Italian  poet,  loomed 
larger  than  Melin  in  the  literary  world  of  France,  as  Wyatt 
and  Surrey  knew  it.  Although  xMarot  preserved  a  patriotic 
independence,  Italian  sentiment  was  freely  sown  in  his  day  in 
Parisian  fields.     Italian  authors  were  esteemed  there,  and  to 

by  Ferdinand  Gohin,  was  published  by  the  Societe  des  Textes  Frangais 
IVIodernes  in  1909. 

^  Melin   de   Saint-Gelais    is    rarely    mentioned    in    Tudor    literature.        1 
Puttenham,  in  his  Arte  0/  English  Pocsie  (1589),  notes  that  ]\Ielin,  like       / 
Marot    and  '  Salmonius   Macrinus',   was   rewarded  by  Francis    1    with      / 
office  at  court  on  account  of  his  poetic  excellence.     Salmonius  Macrinus 
or  Jean  Salmon  Macrinus  (1490-1557)  was  a  Latin  poet,  and  a  friend  of 
Rabelais  and  Marot. 

I  a 


ii6  FRENCH    INFLUENCE    1500-1550 

one  of  them,  Luigi  Alamanni,  Francis  I  offered  an  asylum 
when  a  political  revolution  drove  the  Italian  poet  from  his 

.Florentine  home.  Alamanni  published  at  LyoiLS,  under  the 
French  king's  patronage  and  at  his  expense,  a  mass  of 
Italian  poetry,  which  caught  the  ear  of  France.  Every 
form  of  poetry  which  the  Italian  Renaissance  encouraged — 
sonnets,  didactic  poems,  satires,  eclogues,  romantic  tales  in 
blank  verse,  and  plays — engaged  Alamanni's  pen.  No 
strong  poetic  feeling  stirred  his  muse,  but  versatihty  and 
ingenuity  lent  some  distinction  to  his  irrepressible  industry. 
Alamanni's  perseverance  and  ingenuity  lacked  no  honour  in  his 
land  of  exile.  Francis  I  not  only  proved  a  munificent  patron, 
but  the  king's  daughter-in-law,  Catherine  de'  Medici,  made 
him  her  maiti^e  cVhotel.  His  work  attracted  attention  in 
England  as  well  as  in  France  by  its  metrical  deftness  and 
variety  of  topic.  With  Alamanni's  activity  Surrey's  and 
Wyatt's  efforts  alike  have  undoubted  affinity.^ 

Some  of  Surrey's  and  Wyatt's  poetic  experiments  were 
immediately  suggested  by  the  Parisian  Florentine.  Surrey 
was  perhaps  in  warmest  and  closest  sympathy  with  the 
Italian's  zeal  for  innovation  in  a  direction  which  has 
singular  importance  in  English  literary  history,  ^^larnaniii 

-W,^_the^rst  modern  writer  to  employ  blank  verse^in^nar- 
rative  poetry.'^  It  has  been  claimed  for  him  somewhat 
doubtfully  that  he  was  the  inventor  of  that  metre.   Two  Italian 

/  dramatists,  Giovanni  Trissino  and  Giovanni  Rucellai,  tried  ex- 
periments with  versi  sci'olti  (\.Q.  blank  verse)  either  just  after  or 
just  before  him.  The  chronology  is  not  certain,  but  Alamanni 
is  more  likely  to  have  followed  than  to  have  preceded  them. 
Yet  Trissino  and  Rucellai  only  used  blank  verse  in  tragic 
drama.  Wliile  the  likelihood  may  be  admitted  that  one 
or  other  of  these  two  Italians  was  Alamanni's  inspirer,  his 
pretension  to  originality  is  far  from  cancelled.     There  is  no 

'  For  an  estimate  of  Alamanni's  place  in  French  literature  see 
Francesco  Flamini's  admirable  essay  '  Le  Lettere  Italiane  alia  Corte  di 
Francesco  I  re  di  Francia '  in  his  ^tiedi  di  Sto/ia  Lettfraria  lialiana 
e  Straniera,  Livorno,  1 895,  pp.  270  seq. 

"^  A/a//iii»fii,  sa  vie  et  son  a'uvre,  par  H.  Hauvette,  Paris,  1903, 
pp.  215  seq. 


BLANK    \'I:RS1<:  117 

precedent  for  the  employment  of  blank  verse  in  narration,  as 
Alamanni  habitually  employed  it.  He  proved  his  command 
of  it  to  signal  effect  in  his  Eclogues,  in  his  tales  of  Atlas  and 
Phaethon,  and  in  his  curious  poetic  description  of  the  inunda- 
tion of  Rome  by  an  overflow  of  the  Tiber  in  1530  (//  Diluvio 
Romano).  Alamanni  was  conscious  of  the  novelty  of  his 
usage,  and  feared  that  it  might  rouse  conservative  censure. 
When  dedicating  to  his  patron,  Francis  I,  in  1532,  his  Opcre 
Toscane~the  standard  collection  of  his  works — most  of 
which  were  written  in  Florence  many  years  earlier,  he 
modestly  defends  himself  against  the  charge  of  defying 
the  accepted  law  by  employing  '  verse  without  rhyme '.  He 
justifies  his  novel  endeavour  largely  on  the  ground  that 
rhyme  lacks  classical  sanction.  There  is  an  originality  about 
Alamanni  s  theory  and  practice  in  regard  to  blank  verse  that 
was  well  calculated  to  attract  a  poetic  aspirant  of  Surrey's 
eager  temperament.  Francis  I,  a  recognized  arbiter  on  points 
of  literary  taste,  approved  Alamanni's  experiment.  Alamanni's 
royal  patron  was  also  personally  acquainted  with  the  English 
poet.  The  Italian's  appeal  to  the  French  king  for  a  sympathetic 
judgement  on  his  metrical  innovation  attracted  Surrey's 
notice. 

Alamanni's  original  experiment  in  blank  verse  as  a  vehicle 
of  poetic  narrative  was  accessible  to  Surrey  some  years  be- 
fore the  English  poet  first  showed  in  his  translation  of  the 
second  and  fourth  books  of  Vergil's  Aeneid  how  the  English 
language  adapted  itself  to  unrhymed  verse.  Italian  authors 
other  than  Alamanni  were  at  the  time  applying  the  new 
metrical  device  to  Vergil's  epic.  But  they  frankly  acknow- 
ledged their  discipleship  to  Alamanni.  In  France  his  repute 
as  the  inventor  of  unrhymed  verse  was  never  doubted.  When 
the  poetic  masters  of  the  French  Renaissance  were  subsequently 
discussing  crucial  laws  of  metre,  they  cited  'Seigneur  Loys 
Aleman '  as  the  sole  champion,  de  nostre  tens.,  of  the  free  \ 
rhymeless  line,  and  if  they  questioned  the  fitness  of  his  vers  1 
litres  for  general  use,  they  commended  his  bold  originality.*    \ 

'  Du   Bellay's  Dcffense  ct  illusiration  de  la  lam^ue  fram^oyse,  1549)   ^ 
p.  132. 


iiX  FRENCH   INFLUENCE    1500  1550 

There  are  many  grounds  for  ranking  Surrey  among 
Alamanni's  pupils.^  Blank  verse  never  flourished  on  French 
soil,  although  it  engaged  in  the  next  era  the  platonic  affection 
of  Ronsard  and  some  of  his  friends.  A  different  fortune 
awaited  in  Elizabethan  England  Alamanni's  metrical  innova- 
tion of  which  Surrey  was  the  first  Englishman  to  make  trial. 

Surrey's  literary  ally,  vSir  Thomas  Wyatt,  acknowledged 
more  openly  Alamanni's  tuition.  \\'yatt  followed  the  Floren- 
tine's guidance  in  two  most  characteristic  performances 
— in  his  satires  and  in  his  poetic  rendering  of  the  Peni- 
tential Psalms.  Wyatt's  three  satires  on  a  courtier's  life, 
which  recall  the  gentle  vein  of  Horace,  are  often  reckoned 
the  first  examples  of  poetic  satire  in  P^ngland.  They  are  to 
a  large  extent  paraphrases  of  Alamanni's  satires.  Here  and 
there  they  sink  to  literal  translation.  When  Wyatt  is  explain- 
ing to  '  mine  own  John  Poins '  why  he  flies  '  the  press  of 
courts  '  and  '  cannot  honour  them  that  set  their  part  with  Venus 
and  Bacchus  all  their  life  long',  he  is  repeating  verbally  the 
assurances  that  Alamanni  gave  his  familiar  friend  '  Thommaso 
mio  gentir  in  the  satires  which  he  published  in  Paris  under 
Francis  Ps  auspices  very  few^years  earlier.  Nor  does  Wyatt's 
assimilation  of  Alamanni's  unexceptionable  sentiment  exhaust 
the  debt.  He  borrowe^i^Alanianni's  satiric  metre,  which,  al- 
though the  English  adapter  did  not  know  It Tislh distinguish- 
able from  Qante^  terza  rima^  and  was  already  applied  to 
satire  by  the  earliest  of  Italian  satirists,  Antonio  A^inciguerra, 
and  by  his  more  famous  successor,  Ariosto."    \\'yatt's  rhymes 

^  The  famous  Italian  author  Aretino,  writing  to  Alamanni  June  10, 
1542,  mentions  a  translation  of  Vergil  by  one  of  Aretino's  friends  secondo 
r iiso  iW  vosiri  versi  sciolti.  Surrey's  blank  verse  translation  of  \'ergirs 
ylefieid,  Books  II  and  IV,  was  not  published  until  1557,  ten  years  after 
his  death.  It  was  probably  written  about  1538.  The  second  book  of 
the  Aeneid  in  Italian  blank  verse  was  first  published  at  Castello  in  1539, 
and  the  first  six  books  in  the  same  metre  at  Venice  in  1540. 

'  Flamini,  //  Cinqiiecetifo,  pp.  206-7  (in  Storia  Lctteraria  d'  lialici). 
Le  Maire  de  Beiges  claimed  to  have  first  used  in  France  (about  1503) 
this  metre,  which  he  calls  vers  ticrcets  a  la  fd^on  Italiennc  on  Toscane. 
Hut  the  terza  ?i)ua,  although  the  poets  of  the  Pleiade  made  some  experi- 
ments with  it,  did  not  become  common  in  France  ;  cf.  Prof.  L.  F.  Kastner, 
French  Versification,  pp.  167  scq.  Prof.  Saintsbury  calls  Wyatt's  satiric 
verse  '  intertwined  decasyllables  ',  and  seems  puzzled  to  account  for  their 
intricacy  {Hist.  0/  Prosody,  i.  311-12). 


ALAMANNI'S   SA7VRES  119 

in  his  decasyllabic  satires  look  to  the  I'jiglish  eye  curiously 
intertwisted.  The  first  and  third  lines  rhyme  tog^ether ;  then 
the  second,  fourth,  and  sixth;  then  the  fifth,  seventh,  and 
ninth  ;  then  the  eig-hth,  tenth,  and  twelfth,  and  so  on : 

1  cannot  honour  them  that  set  their  pari 
With  Venus  and  Bacchus,  all  their  life  /ong ; 
Nor  hold  my  peace  of  them,  although  I  smart. 

I  cannot  crouch  nor  yield  to  such  a  rurong^ 
To  worship  them  like  God  on  earth  a/ojie. 
That  are  as  wolves  these  sely  lambs  ai7tong. 

I  cannot  with  my  words  complain  and  moan. 

And  suffer  nought ;  nor  smart  without  complaint ; 
Nor  turn  the  word  that  from  my  mouth  is  gone. 

The  following  quotation  shows  how  precisely  Wyatt  follows 
here  Alamanni's  metrical  as  well  as  his  verbal  guidance  : 

Non  saprei  reuerir  chi  soli  adora 
Venere  &  Bacco,  ne  tacer  saprei 
Di  quei  che  '1  uulgo  falsamente  honora. 

Non  saprei  piu  ch'  a  gli  immortali  Dei 
Rendere  honor  con  le  ginocchia  inchine 
A  piu  ingiusti  che  sian,  fallaci,  &  rei. 

Non  saprei  nel  parlar  courir  le  spine 
Con  simulati  fior,  nell'  opre  hanendo 
Mele  al  principio,  &  tristo  assentio  2XJinc} 

Nor,  again,  is  it  likely  to  be  an  accidental  coincidence  that 
Wyatt  should  be  the  first  to  versify  in  English  the  Penitential 
Psalms,  and  that  Alamanni  while  at  the  French  court  should 
render  the  Salmi  Penitentiali  a  like  service  in  Italian  just 
before.  The  choice  of  the  same  sacred  topic  by  the  two 
secular  pens  has  corroborative  value  in  the  argument. 

Little  doubt  remains  that  France  in  her  wonted  role  of 
missionary  introduced  to  Wyatt's  and  Surrey's  notice  that 
mass  of  Italian  poetry  which  the  Florentine  Alamanni  penned, 
or  at  any  rate  piiblished,  while  he  was  domiciled  in  Paris. 

Alamanni  included  in  his  work  centuries  of  Italian  son- 
nets.    As  soon  as  Alamanni's  sonnets,  which  are  themselves 

^  Alamanni,  Satira  X,  Opere  Toscane,  1532,  p.  401.  Wyatt's  debt  to 
Alamanni  is  well  estimated  in  Carlo  Segre's  '  Due  Petrarchisti  inglesi 
del  secolo  xvi  '  in  his  Siiidi  Pctrarchesi  hi^  J903)  PP-  335  seq. 


I20  FRENCH   INFLUENCE    1500-1550 

largely  echoes  of  I^ctrarch  and  his  early  disciples,  are 
closely  compared  with  the  Englishmen's  small  harvest, 
they  suggest  a  partial  source  of  Itnglish  inspiration. '  The 
living  Alamanni  at  any  rate  stood  beside  their  desks  to  in- 
terpret the  sonneteering  practice  of  Petrarch,  Ariosto,  and 
Sannazzaro,  France  could  not  otherwise  give  them  much 
help  there. 

Ronsard  and  his  disciples  were  to  convert  the  Italian 
fashion  of  sonneteering  into  a  French  vogue.  But  French 
literature  in  the  pre-Ronsardian  era  caught  only  a  first  fleet- 
ing glimpse  of  the  Italian  sonnet.  At  most  a  dozen  French 
sonnets  were  in  circulation  while  Wyatt  and  Surrey  were 
active.  Clement  Marot  and  his  contemporary  Melin  de  Saint- 
Gelais  tentatively  translated  or  adapted  a  few  Italian  examples 
in  the  third  decade  of  the  century.  It  was  a  few  years  after 
Wyatt's  and  Surrey's  effort  that  France  completely  naturalized 
the  Italian  sonnet.  When  the  English  Muse  awoke  at  the  end 
of  Elizabeth's  reign  from  that  slumber  vp^hich  befell  her  on 
Wyatt's  and  Surrey's  death,  she  discerned  in  the  sonneteering 
activities  of  France  an  almost  keener  stimulus  than  in  those 
of  Italy.  Wyatt  and  Surrey  found  as  sonneteers  little  assis- 
tance in  French  poetry. 

It  may  even  be  doubted  if  the  English  pioneers  owed  any 
thing  to  this  sparse  effort  of  the  first  French  sonneteers. 
Both  Englishmen  and  Frenchmen  often  had  independent 
recourse  to  the  same  Italian  originals.  It  is  curious  to  note 
that  one  of  Wyatt's  sonnets,  in  which  a  lover's  life  is  some- 
what clumsily  compared  to  the  Alps — 

Like  unto  these  immeasurable  mountains 
Is  my  painful  life  the  burden  of  ire — 

nearly  resembles  that  French  sonnet  by  Melin  de  wSaint-Gelais 
which  is  often  reckoned  the  first  sonnet  to  be  penned  in 
France : 

'  Both  Surrey  and  Wyatt  variously  modify  the  Petrarchan  scheme,  and 
invariably  employ  the  terminal  couplet,  which  was  rare  in  Italy.  The 
metrical  characteristics  of  the  English  sonnet  of  the  sixteenth  century  arc 
discussed  at  p.  264  infra.  Alamanni  prefers  a  somewhat  original  form  of 
tercet,  cde^  cde. 


TUl-:   I'IRST   I^NGLISH    S0NX1:TS  izi 

\'oyant  ces  monts  de  veuc  ainsi  lointainc, 
Jc  les  compare  a  mon  long-  dcplaisir. 

Hut  It  is  unquestionable  that  both  Wyatt  and  the  French  poet 
had  here  independent  recourse  to  an  original  Italian  sonnet 
by  Jacopo  vSannazarro,  a  Neapolitan  sonneteer  of  a  little 
earlier  date,  who  is  best  known  as  author  of  the  pastoral 
romance  of  the  Arcadia  and  was  one  of  Alamanni's  masters, 
vSannazarro's  sonnet  opens  with  the  lines  : 

Simile  a  questi  smisurati  monti 

K  I'aspra  vita  mia  colma  di  doglie. 

Wyatt's  rendering  of  the  Italian  is  more  literal  than  the 
Frenchman's  version.^ 

In  other  branches  of  Wyatt's  verse  an  Influence  of  pure 
French  stamp  can  be  traced.  The  clues  graphically  illustrate 
English  receptivity  to  current  tendencies  of  the  French  muse. 
Wyatt's  varied  lyric  experiments  passed  far  beyond  the  scope 
of  the  sonnet  or  the  fcrza  riiua  of  Italian  satire.  At  times  he 
affects  a  simple  stanza  of  six  octosyllabic  lines  of  which  the 
first  four  rhyme  alternately  and  the  last  two  form  a  couplet ; 
this  stave  was  already  familiar  in  linglish  verse,  and  although 
it  is  also  frequent  In  French  chansons,  no  immediate  foreign 
source  is  to  be  suspected.  But  often  Wyatt's  lines  vary  from 
four  to  eight  syllables  In  length,  and  are  combined  In 
quite  new  Intricacies.  The  diversity  is  suggestive  of  con- 
temporary France  rather  than  of  contemporary  Italy.  Many 
of  Wyatt's  lyric  measures  clearly  reflect  the  rhythms  of 
Clement  Marot  and  his  school,  and  the  points  of  iden- 
tity leave  no  doubt  that  the  Englishman  was  often  a 
direct     borrower     from    Marot.-      Both    poets    occasionally 

'  Cf.  67'  imitatori  strmiicri  di  Jacopo  Sannaaai'o,  Riccrche  di  Fran- 
cesco Torraca,  Rome,  1882,  pp.  31-2. 

-  There  are  extant  in  the  Harington  MSS.  of  Wyatt's  work  twelve 
French  poems  in  his  own  handwriting.  (See  Nott's  edition  of  Wyatt's 
Foetus,  p.  589.)     The  first  lines  are: 

1.  Si  la  botitc  se  vouloii  esniander 

2.  Ma  inaitresse  a  je  ne  scat  qiioi  de  bon 

3.  Dames!   a  qiti  de  ces  eaiix  crysfallhies 

4.  Si  par  mcnwire  atnoier,  et  le  devoir 

5 .  Phime  qui  /us  die  del  prcdestijice 

6.  Extreme  mal  qui  le  desir  rc?iforce 


122  FRl^NCH   INFLUENCE    1500  1550 

employ  a   stanza  eight    lines   long,  and  although    there    arc 
slight  variations  in  the  length  of  line,  the  rhymes  are  in  both 
French  and   English  cast   in   an   identical   mould  of  unusual 
type— ababbcbc.^     Wyatt's  little  six-line  and  eight-line  poems 
repeatedly    catch   the   note  of  the   sixains   or   hiiitains   of 
Marot  or  of  his  rival,  Melin  de  Saint-Gelais.     The  scstinas 
and   ottavas   of  the    Italians   are   in   a    somewhat    different 
key.     By  Tudor  F^nglishmen  such  fragmentary  verse  was  in- 
variably associated  with  France.      In   the   opening   days   of 
PQueen    Elizabeth,   George    Gascoigne,  „  the    author    of    the 
\  earliest  English  treatise   on   prosody,  employed  the  French 
terms  dixains  and  sixains  to  designate  poems  of  ten  and  six 
,   lines  long,  of  which  he  knew  little  save  that  they  were  '  com- 
[_  monly  used  by  the  French  '.^ 

Again,  Wyatt's  fondness  for  irregular  lines  of  Skeltonian 
brevity  echo  a  French  predilection  to  which  Marot  was  no 

7.  Si  voiis  pe/ises     ue  ina  mie  Jieust  que  faife 

8.  Frere  Thibaud  scjournc  gros  et  gras 

9.  Un  jour  ma  mie  etoit  toute  seulette 

10.  Je  ne  veux  rien  qu'uii  baiser  dc  la  boucJic 

11.  Une  belle  jeune  epoiisce 

12.  J\ii  vu  le  corps  qui  honore  no/re  age 

The  first  is  Melin  de  Saint-Gelais's  poem, '  Au  Roy  Francois '  {GLuvres,  ii. 
144),  and  the  eighth  is  an  epigram  of  Clement  Marot  (No.  XLIV).  The 
sources  of  the  others  have  not  been  traced,  but  all  are  probably  tran- 
scripts by  Wyatt  of  contemporary  French  poetry. 

^  Si  au  monde  ne  fussiez  point, 

IJelle,  jamais  je  ffaymerois ; 
Vous  seule  avez  gaign^  le  poinct 
Que  si  bien  garder  fesperois  ; 
Mais  quand  a  mon  gr(;  vous  aurois 
En  ma  chambre  seu/ef/e. 

Pour  me  venger,  je  vous  ferois 
La  couleur  7>eri)ieiUettc. 

(Marot,  Chanson  XVI II,  in  CEuvies,  ii.  185.) 

I  shall  assay  by  secret  suit 

To  show  the  mind  of  mine  intent; 
And  my  deserts  shall  give  such  fruit 

As  with  my  heart  my  words  be  meant ; 

So  by  the  proof  of  this  consent 
Soon  out  of  doubt  I  shall  be  sure, 

For  to  rejoice  or  to  repent, 
In  joy  or  pain  for  to  endure.     (Wyatt,  Works,  p.  160.) 

-  Certayne   Notes  of  Instruction   in    Gascoigne's  Posies  (Cambridge, 
1907,  p.  472). 


WVATTS    RONDEAUS  123 

stranger.'  The  light  French  note  seems  also  struck  by  W'yatt 
in  both  the  metre  and  the  sentiment  of  such  a  familiar  poem  as 
'  The  Careful  Lover  Complaineth  and  the  Happy  Lover  Coun- 
selleth ','-  More  significant  is  the  fact  that  Wyatt's  muse 
loved  that  form  of  lyric  known  as  the  rondeau,  which  was 
a  petted  child  not  only  of  the  mediaeval  muse  of  France,  but  ^ 
of  her  latest  disciples  of  the  early  sixteenth  century.  Occasion- 
ally the  rondeau  had  been  tried  in  England  by  Chaucer  and 
Lydgate,  but  old  English  experiments  were  rare  and  crude. 
The  metre  of  the  French  rondeau  was  only  brought  to  per- 
fection in  the  epoch  of  Marot,  and  mainly  by  Marot  himself. 
Marot,  following  a  hint  offered  by  his  father,  first  purged  the 
rondeau  of  older  irregularities  and,  by  making  the  refrain  the 
central  feature,  invested  the  poem  with  a  new  and  stimulating 
charm.  The  length  was  sternly  reduced  to  fifteen  lines,  and 
the  refrain  became  the  keynote  of  the  melody.  The  rondeau 
on  Marot  s  delightful  plan  invariably  consists  of  two  stanzas,  \ 

'  Compare 

Such  fire  and  such  heat 
Did  never  make  ye  sweat; 

For  without  pain 

You  best  obtain 
Too  good  speed  and  too  great. 

Whoso  doeth  plain 

You  best  do  feign 
Such  fire  and  such  heat, 
Who  now  doth  slander  Love.      (Wyatt,  IVor^s,  p.  139.) 

J 'ay  grand  desir 
D'avoir  plaisir 
D'amour  mondaine  ; 
Mais  c'est  grand'  peine, 
Car  chascun  loyal  amoureux 
Au  temps  present  est  malheureux; 
Et  le  plus  fin 
(iaigne  k  la  fin 
La  grace  pleine, 

(Marot,  Chanson  XXVIII,  in  LEuvrcs,  ii.  1S9.) 
^  This  song,  which  Shakespeare  parodies  {Twelfth  Night,  IV.  ii.  79-80), 
begins 

Ah!    Robin! 
Jolly  Robin! 

Tell  me  how  thy  Leman  doth. 
Marot  in  his  Eclogues  calls  himself  'Robin',  a  common  appellation  of 
French  pastoral  poetry,  and  applies  the  name  to  licentious  shepherds  in 
two  epigrams  (cf.  Nos.  CCLXXXIV  and  CCLXXXV).  Wyatt's  brief 
poem  in  its  later  stanzas  takes  the  form  of  a  dialogue  in  which  the  alternate 
speeches  are  headed  by  the  French  words  n'ponse  and  le  plaintif. 


124 


fr]^:nch  influence  1500-1550 


one  of  eight  lines  with  a  marked  pause  after  the  fifth  h'ne,  and 
the  other  of  five  lines,  while  each  stanza  closes  with  a  refrain 
formed  of  the  three  or  four  opening-  words  of  the  poem.^ 
W^yatt's  rondeaus  invariably  respect  that  reformed  scheme 
which  enjoyed  Marot's  peculiar  sanction.  Though  there  is 
nothing  in  Wyatt's  bathetic  cadences  to  recall  the  felicities  of 
Marot  s  best  harmonies,  the  resemblance  between  Marot's  and 
Wyatt's  rondeaus  is  too  close  in  shape  and  often  in  topic  to  be 
fortuitous.     Wyatt's  refrains  are  clearly  of  Marot's  invention.'- 

^  Marot's  notable  triumph  in  the  refrain  of  the  7-ondenii  is  especially 

commended  by  Boileau,  the  poetic  censor  of  early  French  poetry,  when 

he  mentions  Marot's  metrical  inventiveness  : 

Marot  bientot  aprcs  fit  fleurir  les  ballades, 
Tourna  les  triolets,  rima  les  mascarades, 
Et  des  refi-ains  reglez  asscfvit  les  rondeau.v 
Et  montra  pour  rimer  des  chemins  tout  nouveaux. 
"^  It   is   interesting   to   compare  from   the   metrical   point   of  view   two 

rondeaus  respectively  by  Wyatt  {Works,  p.  8i)  and  .\larot  {(Ein'tes,  ii. 

157),  in  both  of  which  the  fortunes  of  a  lover's  heart  form  the  main  topic. 

The  rhyming  schemes  compare  thus  :  aabba  aabc  aabbac  (Marot)  ;  aabba 

bbac  bbaabc  (Wyatt).    The  specimen  of  Marot's  art  is  a  poor  one,  but 

\\'yatt  is  at  his  normal  level : 


Marot. 
Tan  I  setilcinent  ton   amour  te  de- 

mande, 
Te  suppliant  que  ta  beaute  com- 

mande 
Au   cueur   de    moy  comme   a   ton 

serviteur, 
Ouoyque  jamais  il  ne  desservit  heur 
Qui     procedast     d'une     grace     si 

grande. 

Croy  que  ce  cueur  de  te  congnoistre 

amande, 
Et   vouluntiers   se    reudroit    de    ta 

bande, 
S'il  te  plaisoit  luy  faire  cest  honneur 
Tant  seulanciit. 

Si   tu  le  veulx,  metz   le   soubz  ta 

commande ; 
Si  tu  le  prens,  las  !   je  te  recom- 

mande 
Le  triste  corps :    ne  le  laisse  sans 

cueur, 
Mais  loges  y  le  tien,  cjui  est  vain- 

queur 
De  I'humble  serf  qui  son   vouloir 

te  mande 
Tunt  sciilc»icnt. 


WVATT. 

Help    me   to   seek!    for    I    lost    it 

there ; 
And  if  that  ye  have  found  it,  ye 

that  be  here, 
And  seek  to  convey  it  secretly. 
Handle  it  soft  and  treat  it  tenderly, 
Or    else    it   will    plain,    and    then 

appair. 

But  pray  restore  it  mannerly, 
Since  that  I  do  ask  it  thus  honestly, 
For  to  lese  it,  it  sitteth  me  near ; 
Help  vie  to  seek  J 


Alas  !    and  is  there  no  remedy  : 
But  have  I  thus  lost  it  wilfully. 
I  wis  it  was  a  thing  all  too  dear 
To    be    bestowed,    and    wist    not 

where. 
It    was    mine    heart !    I    pray   you 

heartily 
Help  me  to  seek  I 


MAROT'S   INFLUKNCi:    IN   ENGLAND        125 

With  the  close  of  Surrey's  and  W'yatt's  poetic  careers, 
poetic  ambition  in  Entjland  subsided  for  a  generation.  In 
France,  too,  '  le  style  Marotique '  was  soon  to  be  dethroned. 
Ronsard,  a  far  nobler  genius  than  Marot,  was  ready  to 
scale  the  French  Parnassus  by  a  new  Graeco-Italian  path. 
The  French  Muses  under  Ronsard's  rule  redoubled  their 
energy  and  gathered  without  pause  new  strength  and  fame. 
In  F.ngland  there  was  no  contemporary  of  Ronsard's  royal 
calibre  to  tread  in  W'yatt  s  and  Surrey's  somewhat  faltering 
steps.  Their  ventures  were  not  pursued.  They  had  no 
genuine  disciples,  and  poetry  was  for  the  moment  silenced 
in  England. 

Yet  Wyatt  and  Surrey  do  not  lack  all  links  with  the 
F^lizabethans,  and  it  is  curious  to  observe  that  the  links  are 
largely  of  French  texture.  When  the  poetic  spirit  of  Eliza- 
bethan England  first  grew  articulate  in  Spenser's  early  verse, 
it  re-echoed  for  a  short  season  the  old-fashioned  key  of  Marot 
which  Wyatt  had  emulated.  Only  later  did  English  poetry 
aspire  to  borrow  notes  from  Ronsard's  more  accomplished 
lyre.  Spenser's  boyish  endeavour  of  The  Visions  of  Petrarch^ 
comes  straight,  not  from  an  Italian  source,  but  from  Marot's 
Les  Visions  de  Petrarque.  Two  of  the  eclogues  or  pas- 
torals in  Spenser's  The  Shepheards  Calender  paraphrase 
with  literalness  poems  by  Marot.  Spenser's  friendly  con-  ^  CLMc*^ 
temporary  and  commentator,  'E.  K.',  tells  how  the  English  0^^^ 
poet  called  himself  Colin  because  Marot  had  assumed  the  like 
pastoral  name.  Spenser's  poetic  shepherd,  Thenot,  is  drawn, 
too,  from  Marot's  tuneful  page.  Marot,  in  another  of  his 
pastoral  names,  that  of  Robin,  makes  confession  to  the 
shepherd-god,  Pan,  of  the  poetic  aspirations  of  his  innocent 
childhood : 

Sur  le  printemps  de  ma  jeunesse  folle 
Je  ressemblais  I'hirondelle  qui  vole 
Puis  ^^a,  puis  la,     L'age  me  conduisait 
Sans  peur  ni  soin  ou  mon  coeur  me  disait. 
En  la  foret,  sans  la  crainte  des  loups. 

Spenser,  under  the  pastoral  name  of  Colin,  echoed  the  strains 


126  FRENCH    INFLUENCE  1500 -1550 

of  the  French  Robin  and  paid  his  addresses  to  Pan  in  Marot's 
accents.     {Shepheards  Calender,  xii,  11.  19-24.) 

Whilome  in  youth,  when  flowered  my  joyful  spring, 

Like  swallow  swift,  I  wandered  here  and  there. 

For  heat  of  heedless  lust  me  so  did  sting. 

That  I  of  doubted  danger  had  no  fear. 

I  went  the  wasteful  woods  and  forest  wide, 

Withouten  dread  of  wolves  to  be  espied. 

ALarot's  appeal — 

Escoute  un  peu,  de  ton  vert  cabinet, 
Le  chant  rural  du  petit  Robinet  — 
sounds  oddly  in  Spenser's  rendering: 

Hearken  awhile  from  thy  green  cabinet, 
The  rural  song  of  careful  Colinet. 

Thus  Elizabethan  poetry  betrayed  no  reluctance  to  exercise 
its  prentice  hand  in  '  le  style  Marotique  '  after  that  vogue  in 
France  was  dead.  The  Elizabethan  muse  while  approaching 
maturity  cast  many  a  backward  glance  on  old  French  litera- 
ture, as  if  to  seek  counsel  there  for  future  progress.  Marlowe 
followed  Marot  in  versifying  in  his  own  tongue  Alusaeus's 
poetic  tale  of  Hero  and  Leander.  Adaptation  of  Marot's  fancy 
was  indeed  pursued  on  occasion  throughout  the  Ehzabethan 
era.  More  than  one  instance  is  found  in  so  representative 
a  miscellany  of  the  epoch's  verse  as  Davison's  Poetical 
Rhapsody,  which  was  first  published  in  1602.  The  English 
adapter  was  prone  to  amplify  his  French  original,  but  the 
source  of  his  inspiration  cannot  be  ignored  by  any  student 
of  Marot's  work.^ 

1  The  following  typical  specimen  of  the  turning  of  a  dixain  by  Marot 
into  a  sonnet  of  Davison's  Poetical  Rhapsody  may  be  examined  with 
advantage.  The  four  italicized  English  lines  are  original  interpolations 
by  the  English  versifier  : 

^    ^.        .,  .  ,  ..       Davison.    Ed.  A.  H.  Bullen,  1891, 

Marot.     De  Dtane,  Epigram  Ixii,  j 

^  ^  ^'  To  Mistress  Diana. 

EstrePhebusbiensouventje  desire,      Phoebus  of  all  the  Gods,  1  wish  to 
Non  pour  cognoistre  herbes  divine-  be  ; 

ment,  Not  of  the  world  to  have  the  over- 

seeing ; 
For  of  all  t/iings  in  the  luorld's 

circuit  I'eifii;; 
One  only  thing-  I  aluuiys  wish  to 
see. 


QUi^EN  MARGARirr  (W  NAVARRl-  127 

IX 

The  IxTERRErxNUiM  IX  TuDOK  Poetry 

Between  the  ending  of  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century 
and  the  opening  of  the  Elizabethan  period  of  English  poetry 
there  lies  a  dreary  interregnum,  on  which  Erance  still  shed 
light,  although  the  glow  was  intermittent.  Marot's  influence, 
which  was  not  yet  exhausted,  was  supplemented  by  that  of 
Marot's  patroness,  the  Queen  of  Navarre  (1492- 1549).  The 
'  tombeau  '  or  elegiac  tribute  which  the  daughters  of  the  Pro- 
tector Somerset  paid  her  memory  on  herdeath,^  illustrates  the 
impression  which  her  literary  activity  left  on  the  England  of  j 
Queen  Elizabeth's  youth. 

No  Englishman  who  took  note  of  literary  progress  across 
the  Channel  failed  to  observe  the  noble  service  rendered  to 
humanism  by  Marot's  mistress,  whom  Michelet  has  called  '  the 
beloved  mother  of  the  French  Renaissance'.  If,  in  the  day' 
of  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  Marot  was  the  Apollo  of  the  French 
poetic  firmament.  Queen  Margaret  was  its  Pallas  Athene. 
Although  EngUsh  poets  paid  her  less  notice  than  they  paid 
Alarot  and  some  of  his  predecessors,  although  the  versatility 

Car  la  douleur  qui  mon  cccur  veut       Not  of  all  herbs  the  hidden  force  to 

occire  know, 

Ne  se  guerist  par   herbe   aucune-       For  ah  !  my  wound  by  herbs  cannot 

ment ;  be  cured  ; 

Non  pour  avoir  ma  place  au  tirma-       Not  in  the  sky  to  have  a  place  as- 

ment,  sured ; 

Car  en  la  terre  habite  mon  plaisir  :        For  my  ambition  lies  on  earth  be- 
low ; 
lYo/  to   be  prince   of  the  celestial 

quire, 
For  I  one  nymph  prize  more  than 
all  the  Muses ; 
Xon  pour  son  arc  encontre  Amour       Not    with   his   bow    to   offer  love 

saisir,  abuses, 

Car   a    mon    Roy   ne   veulx   estre      For  I  love's  vassal  am,  and  dread 

rebelle :  his  ire, 

Estre  Phebus  seulement  j'ay  desir.       But  that  thy  light  from  mine,  might 
Pour  estre  ayme  de  Dia-ne  la  belle.  borrowed  be, 

And  fair  Diana  might  shine  under 
me. 
'  .See  p.  45,  supra. 


128  FRENCH   INFLUENCE   1500-1550 

of  her  pen  was  imperfectly  recognized  by  Tudor  Englishmen, 
she  was  reckoned  by  students  the  sole  example  in  the  century 
of  a  truly  literary  queen.  '  Queens,'  wrote  Puttenham  in  his 
work  on  poetry, '  have  been  known  studious  and  to  write  large 
volumes.'  But  the  only  name  he  can  call  to  mind  '  in  our 
time  '  is  that  of '  Lady  Margaret,  Queen  of  Navarre  '.  A''ery 
surprising  was  her  industry  in  authorship.  Verse  and  prose 
constantly  occupied  her  graceful  and  thoughtful  pen.  Her  col- 
/  lected  poetry,  entitled  Les  Margiteyites  de  la  Alargiierite  la 
Princesse  (i^4y),  gave  her  a  title  only  below  that  of  Marot 
among  the  best  poets  of  her  day.  She  excelled  in  epigram,  mad- 
jrigal,  and  elegy.  Nor  did  she  eschew  morality  plays  or  farces. 
Many  of  her  poetic  themes  were  pious  and  scriptural,  but  her 
evangelical  sentiment  did  not  narrow  the  range  of  her  literary 
sympathies.  A  mysticism,  which  owed  much  to  study  of 
paraphrases  of  Plato,  often  coloured  her  speculations  on 
spiritual  and  emotional  questions,  on  the  nature  of  perfect  love. 
She  was  no  prude,  and  among  prose  authors  the  Italian 
Boccaccio  chiefly  appealed  to  her.  She  not  only  caused 
Boccaccio's  Decameron  to  be  translated  into  French,  but 
composed  a  work  herself  on  the  same  model,  which  she 
christened  the  Heptameron.  There  she  narrated  seventy-two 
stories  or  anecdotes,  all  of  which  she  claimed  to  be  true. 
They  were  not  always  free  of  the  taint  of  lubricity. 

But  perhaps  more  notable  than  the  Queen  of  Navarre's 
literary  activity,  with  her  varied  leanings  to  Platonism,  piety, 
and  profanity,  is  the  record  of  her  patronage  of  literature. 
Every  scheme  for  the  promotion  of  learning  received  her  sym- 
pathy and  active  support.  Not  only  did  she  extend  a  generous 
hospitality  to  every  scholar  or  man  of  letters  who  visited 
her  court,  but  she  was  an  energetic  supporter  of  Universities 
in  the  south  of  France,  The  University_of_Nini£S  was 
founded  by  her,  and  that  of  Bourges,  which  gained  immense 
repute  in  the  days  of  the  Renaissance,  was  largely  expanded 
by  her  munificence.  In  Tudor  England  no  woman  proved  quite 
so  versatile  a  benefactress  of  culture.  The  only  Tudor  Eng- 
lishwoman with  whom  comparison  is  possible  belongs  to  that 
earlier  generation  which  saw  a  first  delusive  ray  of  humanism 


QUEEN   JVIARGARl^yr    OF   NAVARRE  129 

on  the  nation's  horizon.  Henry  VIl's  mother  and  Henry  Yllls 
grandmother,  the  Lady  Margaret  Beaufort  (1443- 1509), 
tbunded  Lady  Margaret  Professorships  of  Divinity  at  both 
Oxford  and  Cambridge  Universities  (in  1502),  besides  endow- 
ing two  colleges  at  Cambridge — Christ's  and  St.  John's.  Her 
piety  was  cast  in  a  sternly  orthodox  mould,  but  she  sedulously 
encouraged  the  new  art  of  printing.  Her  own  contributions 
to  literature  were  limited  to  the  translation  of  portions  of  the 
Imitaiiu  CIiris/i\  and  of  other  works  of  devotion  from  the 
Erench.  In  the  annals  of  humanism  the  English  Lady  Mar- 
garet is  a  slender  prototype  of  her  Erench  namesake,  and  save 
possibly  in  the  person  of  Queen  Elizabeth  herself,  the  English 
Renaissance  presented  no  other  patroness  of  culture  who 
could  compare  with  the  Erench  queen  in  versatile  accomplish- 
ment and  active  benevolence  in  the  humanist  cause. 

Adored  by  cultured  ladies  of  Tudor  England,  the  Queen 
of  Navarre  owed  something  of  her  English  reputation  to  the 
infant  zeal  of  Queen  Elizabeth  while  she  was  princess.  At^ 
the  age  of  eleven  the  English  princess  translated  a  pious 
poem  from  Queen  Margaret's  pen.^  On  the  Erench  queen's  ; 
death,  in  1549,  the  daughters  of  Protector  Somerset  penned 
those  elegies  which  won  Ronsard's  admiration.'^  But  it  was 
the  Italian  affinities  of  the  literary  queen  which  chiefly  took 
the  fancy  of  the  Elizabethan  pioneers.  Queen  Margaret's  great  / 
endeavour  to  continue  Boccaccio's  work  in  her  Heptaineron 
was  more  loudly  applauded  by  early  lilizabethan  authors 
than  her  Erench  verse.  Eifteen  of  _the  queen's  tales  figure 
iq_Pamter's  Palaxe  o£_Plm^Mre\x^^^  the  first  collection  of 
short  stories  which  came  from  the  English  press.  Painter's 
Palace  formed  the  favourite  reading  of  English  ladies  in 
the  first  decades  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  and  the  Erench  queen 
of  culture  found  ardent  worshippers  in  Elizabethan  boudoirs. 

But  in  spite  of  such  foreign  stimulus  and  example  as  Queen 
Margaret  and  Marot  offered,  the  Elizabethan  awakening  was 
slow  in  coming.  Torpor  lay  heavy  on  the  English  mind  in  the 
generation  which  succeeded  the  poetic  lispings  of  Henry  VI IPs 

*  See  p.  39.  '■'  See  p.  45. 

LEE  K 


I30  FRENCH    INFLUl^NCK    i5( .0-1550 

courtiers.  In  the  dark  days  which  inter\'ened  before  the  true 
ilhimination,  voices  of  lament  were  heard  that  England  lacked 
the  enlightened  ardour  of  France.  \\'hile  Henry  VIII  was 
yet  alive,  Sir  Thomas  Elyot,  the  industrious  author  of  The 
Governojir^  a  treatise  on  higher  education  (1531),  imputed 
to,  his  fellow  countrymen  negligence  and  sloth  in  comparison 
not  only  with  Frenchmen  but  with  Italians  and  Germans, 
all  of  whom  were  bringing  the  learning  and  wisdom  of 
Greece  and  Rome  into  their  countries  by  way  of  translation. 
Early  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign  Roger  Ascham,  in  his  School- 
i^^tcr  which  he  began  in  1563,  complains  of  the  neglect  of 
literature  and  learning  among  the  English  gentry,  and  warmly 
denied  them  the  consolation  that  gentry  in  France  shared 
their  own  disdain  of  things  of  the  mind.  Such  acknowledge- 
ment of  the  active  spirit  of  the  French  Renaissance  was  faint 
and  imperfect.  Yet  few  other  rays  of  hope  for  the  future  were 
discernible  in  the  mid-century  gloom  of  Tudor  England, 


BOOK    III 

FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN 

PROSE 


K  2 


Trndrnciks  of  Frf.xch  and  English  Prose 

EXGLISII  critics  have  often  confessed  themselves  innppre- 
ciative  of  French  poetry  and  have  pronounced  the  French 
genius  to  be  better  adapted  to  prose.  The  Rnghsh  ear  is 
wont  to  miss  the  rhythmical  cadences  of  the  French  measures 
and  to  impute  to  the  melody  a  ring-  of  monotone.  English 
critics  often  complain  that  sonorousness  is  lacking  and  that 
the  tonic  effect  rarely  rises  above  that  of  a  pleasant  jingle. 
Insular  prejudice  or  ignorance  seems  largely  responsible  for 
this  grudging  verdict.  There  is  a  mass  of  French  poetry 
of  which  the  rich  harmony  or  the  profound  thought 
could  only  be  questioned  by  deafness  or  dullness.  The 
lyric  versatility  and  the  imaginative  range  of  Ronsard,  who 
was  born  within  a  generation  of  Villon's  death  and  was 
followed  in  due  season  by  Racine,  Chenier,  and  \^ictor  Hugo, 
prove  that  France  has  yielded  song  which  belongs  to  the 
world  s  poetic  wealth.  The  harmonies  of  French  metre  are 
not  those  of  English  or  Italian  metre,  but  they  are  often 
equal  to  either  in  beauty  and  originality,  if  not  in  volume  of 
sound.  The  Ronsardian  lute  was  strung  with  Apollo's  hair 
as  surely  as  the  lute  of  vShakespeare  and  the  lute  of  Tasso. 
'  One  star  differeth  from  another  star '  only  in  the  kind  of 
'  glory  '. 

Yet  that  active  and  living  '  faith  in  light  and  motion  '  which 
animated  the  French  Renaissance  was  ambitious  of  perfection 
in  prose  no  less  than  in  poetry.  France  owed  the  vast  scope 
of  her  foreign  influence  to  her  interpretative  faculty,  and  that 
idiosyncrasy  often  found  in  prose  its  fittest  agency.  Eliza- 
bethan England  eagerly  absorbed  the  teaching  which  lay  at 
her  disposal  in  the  prose-writing  of  contemporary  France,  some 
time  before  she  exacted  tribute  of  the  ripest  fruit  of  French 
poetry. 


134  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

The  service  that  France  rendered  Elizabethan  prose  requires 
care  in  definition.  Other  influences  besides  the  French  were 
actively  at  work  and  claim  due  acknowledgement.  But  French 
example  was  probably  more  pervasive  than  any  other,  and  was 
earlier  in  the  field.  France  led  the  way  in  the  general  applica- 
tion of  the  vernacular  to  serious  literature,  and  Tudor  Eng- 
-land  recognized  there  the  force  of  French  instruction.  The 
character  and  scope  of  the  literary  labours  of  Caxton,  and  of 
his  successor  Lord  Berners,  illustrate  how  large  was  the  part 
that  French  influence  played  in  the  early  process  of  substituting 
English  prose  for  Latin  in  ordinary  exposition.  Caxton  and 
Berners,  and  other  prose-writers  of  their  generations,  looked 
almost  exclusively  to  France  for  their  literary  provender.  Not 
that  they  confined  their  attention  to  original  French  literature. 
Early  Tudor  workers  studied  French  translations  from  Latin 
or  Greek,  Italian  or  Spanish,  with  little  less  zeal  than  original 
French  writing.  The  first  vague  gleams  of  genuine  style  came 
to  English  prose  through  English  translation  of  French  ver- 
sions of  the  classics.  Yet  the  early  Tudor  enthusiasm  for 
French  prose  left  its  English  counterpart  a  partially  developed 
instrument.  The  literary  savour  was  faint.  Sentences  were 
disjointed.  The  literary  use  of  the  vernacular,  although  widely 
spreading,  was,  too,  far  from  universal.  It  was  not  quite 
habitual  through  the  half-century  following  the  introduction  of 
printing.  The  tide  which  Caxton  set  flowing  owed  most 
of  its  impetus  to  fifteenth-century  France,  but  it  needed  the 
deliberate  enlistment  of  other  sources  of  energy  before  it 
attained  full  flood. 

Direct  study  of  Latin  and  Greek,  of  Italian  and  Spanish, 
grew  in  England  as  the  century  aged,  and  reinforced  the 
foreign  notes  which  early  Tudor  translators  caught  from  the 
French.  French  influence  was  not  exorcized,  but  formidable 
competitors  were  at  hand  to  challenge  any  French  monopoly. 

Elizabethan  prose,  of  which  the  main  aim  was  recreation, 
proved  more  catholic  in  its  affinities  and  affiliations  than  the 
prose  of  serious  exposition.  Serious  prose  remained  more  or 
less  loyal  to  French  example,  even  if  the  French  influence  was 
materially  modified  by  growth  of  Latin  erudition ;  but  recreative 


ITALIAN   AND   SPANISH    ROMANCE  135 

prose  soiioht  much  nurture  in  fields  outside  F^rance  or  classical 
Rome— notably  in  Italy  and  Spain.  The  habit  of  Caxton  and': 
Berners  in  relying  on  French  romances  of  chivalry  for  literary 
amusement  was  discountenanced  by  the  Elizabethans.  Italian 
influence  predominated  in  their  recreative  prose.  Italy  was 
tlie  original  home  of  the  short  story,  of  the  little  novel,  of  the 
art  of  fiction  in  any  modern  sense.  The  ¥  rench.  J  a  bUa  71  or 
cou/e  did  not  pass  beyond  the  primitive  stage  of  the  anecdote, 
and  the  French  tale  of  knightly  adventure,  while  it  made 
small  attempt  to  respect  methodical  principles  of  construction, 
transgressed  the  limits  of  length  which  the  art  of  story- telling 
required  for  its  full  effect.  Boccaccio  was  the  founder  of 
the  novel  in  the  fourteenth  century,  but  his  sixteenth- 
century  disciple  Bandello  greatly  extended  the  vogue  and 
range  of  fiction.  Renaissance  France  energetically  imitated 
Boccaccio  and  translated  Bandello,  but  she  did  not  obliterate 
the  Italian  hall  -  mark  from  the  imported  wares.  Many 
Elizabethan  loans  were  levied  on  Italian  fiction  through 
the  French,  but  the  transaction  was  at  times  effected  with- 
out an  intermediary.  In  any  case  the  Italian  flavour  retained 
much  of  its  zest.  vSpanish  literature  also  exerted  subsidiary  | 
influence  on  the  lighter  forms  of  Elizabethan  prose  literature. 
The  affectation  of  Lyly's  Eitphues,  the  earliest  specimen  of 
original  recreative  work  in  a  distinctive  literary  cast  of  prose, 
was  coloured  by  Spanish  pomposity  and  pedantry,  Nashe's  \ 
novel,  of  Jack^Wilton  reflected  the  staggering  tone  of 
the  Spanish_storyof  roguish  adventure,  which  Nashe  may 
have  read  at  first  hand.  Some  popular  Elizabethan  experi- 
ments in  romantic  fiction  mingled  numerous  simples  in 
varied  proportions,  but  the  French  element  was  usually  less 
perceptible  than  other  ingredients.  Sidney's  Arcadia  owed 
most  of  Its  diffuse  matter  and  manner  to  the  late  Greek  rKXvel, 
andjo^the  current  pastoral  romance  of  both  Italy  and  Spain. 
The  Greek  novel  probably  reached  the  English  author  in 
French  translation  or  In  English  translation  from  the  French. 
The  Italian  and  .Spanish  pastoral  romance  was  doubtless 
intelligible  to  Sidney  In  the  original  texts. 

Williatn  Painter's  Palace  of  Pleasure  is  the  earliest  collec- 


136  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

tion  of  short  stories  which  an  Enghshman  compiled.  It  was 
published  in  London  early  in  1566.  The  book  makes  no 
pretension  to  originality,  and  a  summary  analysis  of  its  sources 
well  illustrates  the  general  distribution  of  the  foreign  influences 
on  the  Elizabethan  prose  of  recreation.  Of  Painter's  hundred 
and  one  little  novels,  fiijty_ are  drawn  from  the  tales_iif 
Boccaccio  or  from  those  of  his  sixteenth  -  century  Italian 
disciples  Bandello  or  Cinthio.  More  than  thirty  come  direct 
from  the  Latin  or  Greek  historians.  Fifteen  of  the  remainder 
are  translated  from  the  French  of  Queen  Margaret  of  Navarre's 
Heptanieron^  and  one  is  described  as  being  drawn  '  out  of 
a  little  Frenche  booke  called  Compfe  du  ]\Ionde  Avantureiix  \ 
Queen  Margaret's  volume  is  itself  an  imitation  or  development 
of  Boccaccio's  Decaineron\  but  in  any  case  France  holds  among 
Painter'sauthorities  a  place  far  less  conspicuous  than  that  of  Italy 
or  even  of  Greece  and  Rome.  It  should  be  acknowledged 
that  the  Italian  novelist  Bandello,  on  whom  Painter  levied 
liberal  loans,  was  known  to  the  English  collector  only  in 
a  French  translation.  Painter,  in  a  preliminary  list  of  French 
'  authours  out  of  whom  these  nouelles  be  selected  ',  specifies 
the  F'rench  translators  of  Bandello — '  Fran9ois  Belleforest '  and 
'  Pierre  Boaistuau,  surnamed  Launay '.  Yet  when  all  allow- 
ance is  made  for  French  aid,  the  French  influence  which 
Painter  acknowledged  is  impregnated  with  a  pronounced 
^  Italianate '  sentiment.  On  almost  all  the  recreative  prose  of 
Elizabethan  England  the  like  judgement  may  be  passed. 
The  Elizabethan  romance,  in  the  final  form  which  Greene 
and  Lodge  favoured,  is  marked  by  a  diffuse  floridity  of  style, 
while  the  theme  is  presented  with  an  artificial  sensuousness 
which  has  little  relation  to  life  or  nature.  The  mode  is 
of  Italian  lineage,  with  an  occasional  infusion  of  the  artificial 
solemnity  of  Spain  and  a  slender  tincture  of  P"rench  clarity. 
'  Outside  the  bounds  of  P^lizabethan  fiction,  Latin  influence 
came  to  compete  with  P>ench  in  moulding  Elizabethan 
prose  literature.  A  reviving  zest  for  Latin  scholarship 
stimulated  the  progress  of  English  composition  during 
the  middle  years  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Latin  influence 
helped    to    quicken    the    development    of    English     prose. 


THE   INFLUENCi:   OF    LATIN  137 

But  Latin  tuition,  while  it  gnve  a  more  businesslike 
regularity  to  syntactical  structure,  was  touched  by  no 
warmth  of  feeling,  by  no  artistic  expansiveness,  by  small 
originality  or  exuberance  of  thought.  vSir  Thomas  Klyot's 
Governour  (153 1)>  Thomas  Wilson's  Arte  of  RhetoHque 
(1553),  and  Ascham's  Sc/ioo/masfei'-  (1570)  are  substantial 
experiments  in  serious  prose,  l^^lyot  and  Ascham's  books 
are  technical  treatises  on  education.  Wilson's  volume  is 
a  practical  manual  of  composition.  On  each  of  the  three 
works  much  reading  of  Latin  authors  has  left  a  deep  impress. 
Personal  sentiment  is  for  the  most  part  lacking  ;  the  argument 
is  largely  derivative.  The  practical  ends  of  instruction  are 
sought  too  coldly  and  too  dispassionately  to  bring  the  volumes 
within  the  literary  arena,  Elyot,  Wilson,  and  Ascham,  who 
were  all  efficient  classical  scholars,  bear  cumulative  testimony 
to  the  spreading  habit  of  making  English  instead  of  Latin 
prose  the  expository  implement  of  educated  Englishmen. 
Wilson  deprecated  the  employment  of  French  or  Italian 
words  in  place  of  English,  and  betrayed  a  certain  insularity 
of  sentiment,  although  he  borrowed  freely  from  Quintilian 
and  Cicero,  Elyot  and  Ascham  were  closer  observers  of  the 
progress  of  humanism  in  France,  and  w^ere  conscious  of  its 
breadth  of  spirit  and  of  its  hostility  to  scholasticism.  Scholars 
of  the  French  Renaissance  were  among  their  heroes.  If 
Tudor  scholars  did  less  in  the  middle  years  of  the  century  for 
the  ductility  of  English  prose  than  contemporary  French 
masters  for  French  prose,  their  immediate  resort  to  Latin 
fostered  new  virtues  of  cohesiveness  and  solidity. 

But,  in  the  heyday  of  the  Elizabethan  era,  serious  prose 
writers  freely  acknowledged  the  claims  of  French  models  to 
allegiance  or  to  respectful  study.  Most  of  the  Elizabethan 
works  which  dealt  with  philosophy,  theology,  and  biography 
pay  more  generous  tribute  to  French  than  to  Latin  culture. 
Contemporary  French  authors  were  the  efficient  tutors  of 
serious  writers  of  Elizabethan  prose  in  its  last  and  best  phases. 

The  French  masters  were  worthy  of  their  Elizabethan  pupils. 
Jn  the  course  of  the  century  serious  French  prose  acquired 
a  new  directness  and  dignity,  a  grace  and  facility,  which  may 


p-i-S  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABF:THAN  PROSE 

be  traced  in  the  first  place  to  the  French  scholar's  persistent 
habit  of  translating  Latin  and  Greek  classics  into  his  own 
tongue,  and  in  the  second  place  to  the  breadth  of  his  interest 
in  the  world  outside  scholarship.  Scholarship  and  liberality 
of  outlook  absorbed  the  old  F'rench  instinct  for  vivacious  narra- 
tive, purged  it  of  incoherence  or  abruptness,  and  expanded 
its  range  of  theme.  A  small  but  quite  distinct  and  fruitful 
influence  on  the  F"rench  development  of  literary  form  and 
subject  is  traceable  to  French  translations  of  the  Bible. 
England  sought  to  adapt  to  her  earnest  purposes  all  these 
clarifying,  liberalizing,  and  fertilizing  strains  of  F'rench  in- 
fluence. The  balanced  rhythm  of  serious  Elizabethan  prose 
in  its  final  manifestations,  its  fervour  and  its  argumentative 
versatility,  owe  much  to  the  modulating  tendencies  newly  at 
work  in  prose  across  St.  George's  Channel. 

The  directness  and  dignity  of  Sir  Thomas  North,  and  even 
of  Hooker  and  Bacon  may,  together  with  the  orderly  pre- 
sentment of  their  copious  thought,  be  largely  set  to  the  credit 
of  F>ance.  Classical  suggestion  was  still  operative  with- 
out immediate  F"rench  agency,  while  the  F^nglish  version  of 
the  Scriptures  lent  an  independent  measure  of  warmth  and 
intensity.  But  even  in  these  collateral  directions  France  gave 
much  helpjErench  zeal  for  the  vernacular  translation  of  the 
Bible  as  well  as  for  classical  study  communicated  itself  to 
Kngland,  and  stimulated  the  Hebraic  as  well  as  the  classical 
affinities  of  English  writing.  As  for  the  special  forms  of  prose 
literature — biography  and  the  essay — in  which  North  and 
Bacon  won  respectively  their  chief  laurels,  they  are  of  purely 
French  parentage.  Biography  of  the  intelligent  vivid  type 
first  came  to  Elizabethan  England  through  the  French  version 
of  Plutarch.  The  essay  was  a  form  of  literary  effort  directly 
imported  from  France.  The  mingling  of  theology,  and  political 
philosophy,  which  gave  Hooker  his  fame,  is  of  more  complex 
origin.  The  imion  has  precedents  in  mediaeval  scholasticism. 
But  the  Frenchman  Calyjn  may  well  claim  the  main  credit 
of^laying  the  foundation  on  which  Hooker  built.  While 
every  allowance  should  be  made  for  the  progress  of  Latin 
scholarship  in  Tudor  England,  it  is  clear  that  the  Elizabethan 


THI<:    l-RENCH   HIHLIC  139 

essay  and  the  biograpliic  and  speculative  triumphs  of  h^hza- 
bethan  prose  are  either  of  French  descent  or  of  French 
kinship.  The  missionary  energy  of  France  explains  much  of 
the  lucidity  of  manner  in  serious  Elizabethan  prose,  as  well  as 
its  catholicity  of  matter. 

To  four  writers  the  development  of  French  prose  of  the  ^ 
sixteenth  century  is  mainly  due,  —  to  Rabelais  and  Calvin 
whose  chief  work  was  done  in  the  first  half  of  the  century, 
and  to  Amyotand  Montaigne  whose  chief  work  was  done 
in  the  second  half.  Ehzabethan  England  will  be  found  to  be 
under  oblioration  in  different  deg-rees  to  all  these  authors. 
Rabelais,  Calvin,  Amyot,  and  Montaigne  are  the  dominant 
figures  in  the  history  of  sixteenth-century  French  prose.  But 
the  writings  of  these  literary  heroes  do  not  quite  exhaust  the 
scope  of  the  present  inquiry.  The  FrenchBible_  calls  for 
complementary  recognition. 

II 

The  Bible  in  French  and  English 

Ardent  study  of  the  Bible  in  the  vernacular  began,  more 
or  less  under  the  stimulus  of  Germany,  in  both  France  and 
England  at  much  the  same  time.  The  enthusiasm  of  English 
students,  despite  the  primal  debt  to  Germany,  was  soon 
whetted  by  the  French  piety  which,  born  in  Paris,  developed 
in  Antwerp,  and  ultimately  found  a  permanent  abode  in 
Geneva.  The  biblical  influences  on  English  prose  w^ere 
fostered  by  personal  and  literary  intercourse  between  the 
religious  leaders  of  London  and  those  of  Paris,  Antwerp,  and 
Geneva. 

From  Germany  there  reached  Tudor  England  the  first' 
effective  spur  to  the  study  of  the  Scriptures  in  English. 
Wiclif,  who  translated  much  of  the  Bible  into  an  artless  prose  in 
the  fourteenth  century,  was  wellnigh  forgotten.  The  German 
chieftain  of  Protestantism,  Luther,  brought  home  to  Tudor 
Englishmen,  by  his  precept  and  practice,  the  obligation  of 
making  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  accessible  to  the  people 
in    the   people's  language.     But  to  the  development   of  the 


I40  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

j  vernacular   study    of  the  Bible    in    England,   France   of  the 

I  Renaissance  lent  active  help. 

France  was  very  early  in  the  field  of  biblical  translation. 
A-mediaeval  French  version — in  part  a  paraphrase  and  in  part 
an  epitome — belonged  to  the  thirteenth  century.  Based  on 
the  Vulgate,  it  was  a  hundred  years  older  than  the  endeavour 
of  WicHf  Of  this  French  rendering  the  New  Testament 
alone  came  from  a  Lyons  press  as  early  as  1477  5  both  Old 
and  New  Testaments  were  printed  in  Paris  in_i.i87.  Nearly 
two  generations  passed  away  before  any  endeavour  of  a  like 
kind  was  made  in  England.  Not  only  the  French  and  the 
German,  but  the  Italian  and  ^Spanish  presses  also  issued 
vernacular  translations  of  the  Scriptures  half  a  century  before 
the  English  press  approached  this  sphere  of  activity. 

The  story  of  the  original  editions  of  the  French  Bible 
provides  suggestive  comment  on  the  first  English  efforts. 
The  mediaeval  paraphrase,  although  constantly  reprinted,  was 
soon   discountenanced  by  scholars.      The  first  translator  on 

(scholarly  lines  of  the  whole  Bible  4fltQ-JErench^ was  Jacques 
Lefevre  d'EtapTes,'  an  "accomplished  humanist,  who  began 
theological  research  long  before  the  Huguenot  Church  was 
organized,  before  indeed  Luther,  his  junior  by  twenty-eight 
years,  had  formulated  his  doctrine.  As  early  as  l,5j_2  Lefevre 
d'Etaples  published  a  statement  of  his  religious  opinion 
which  anticipates  at  rnany  points  the  principles  of  the  coming 
Reformation.  In  a  Latin  commentary  on  St.  Paul's  Epistles,  he 
claimed  the  right  of  freely  interpreting  the  scriptural  text  by 
/the  aid  of  unfettered  reason.  The  royal  humanist  F'rancis  I  was 
at  this  period  so  unsuspicious  of  heterodoxy,  or  so  fascinated 
by  speculative  originality,  that  he  made  Lefevre  tutor  to  a 
younger  son.  Only  towards  the  close  of  his  long  life,  which 
was  mainly  devoted  to  a  French  translation  of  the  Bible,  did 
Lefevre  rouse  orthodox  hostility.  The  first  instalment  of 
Lefevre  s  Biblical  enterprise,  which,  like  the  mediaeval  para- 

'  Hallam,  in  his  History  oj  Litcraiu7-e,  confusingly  calls  Lefevre 
d'Ktaplcs  by  his  Latinized  name  Faber  Stapulensis.  Born  at  Etaples 
(Pas-de-Calais)  in  1455,  "f  parents  named  Lefc'vre,  the  French  translator 
died  in  1537. 


Li:i  ]:\'RH   D'ETAPLES  AND   OLIVETAN      141 

phrase,  was  largely  based  on  the  text  of  the  Vulgate,  appeared 
in  Paris  in  1523.  Two  years  later  the  Parlement  of  Paris, 
at  the  bidding  of  the  obscurantist  Sorbonne,  condemned  the 
liberal  tendency  of  the  design.  Hut  Queen  Margaret  of 
Navarre  encouraged  the  translator  to  continue  his  labour,  and 
other  portions  followed,  Lefevrc  s  whole  Bible  in  P'rench  was 
finally  printed  in  a  single  \olume  at  Antwerp  in  i^^^o  by 
Martin  de  Keyser  (or  Martin  I'Empereur),  a  Pleming,  whose 
press  enjoyed  a  cosmopolitan  repute.  Lefevre's  perseverance 
was  ultimately  well  rewarded.  French  Catholics,  despite  the 
misgivings  of  the  weaker  brethren,  were  indisposed  to  reject 
permanently  the  fruits  of  his  industry.  After  undergoing- 
some  revision,  Lefevre's  translation  became  the  authorized^ 
P^'rench  Bible  of  the  Catholic  Church,  and  enjoyed  a  wide  I 
esteem. 

Meanwhile  Lefevre's  work  underwent  correction  at 
Huguenot  hands  of  a  thorough  and  scholarly  kind.  The 
Huguenot  recension  was  undertaken  by  Pierre  Robert 
Olivetan,  under  the  auspices  of  Calyin,  who  w^as  a  near 
kinsman  of  the  editor.  Both  Were  natives  of  Noyon  in 
Picardy.  Olivetan's  version  was  published  in  Neufchatel  in  Sr.-.^^' 
1535,  the  expenses  being  defrayed  by  a  subscription  of  the 
\''audois  of  Piedmont.  It  became  the  Authorized  \''ersion 
of  the_J^>eni±_._Protestant_-Cli^  and  the  foundation  of 
Authorized  Versions  of  Protestant  churches  elsewhere.  Thus 
by  1535  two  adequate  P^rench  translations  of  the  Bible  were  in 
general  circulation  among  P'renchmen,  while  the  mediaeval 
paraphrase,  although  its  credit  was  fast  fading,  then  reached 
the  dignity  of  a  sixteenth  edition.  In  no  other  vernacular 
did  the  Bible  enjoy  at  the  moment  quite  the  same  advantage. 

Englishmen  trod  the  path  of  Lefevre  and  Olivetan  at 
a  slower  pace.  In  her  biblical  as  in  almost  all  other  enter- 
prises England  long  leaned  heavily  on  foreign  props. 
Tyndaje.,  the  first  of  the  Tudor  translators  of  the  Bible,  began 
his  pioneer  labours  almost  at  the  same  time  as  Lefevre. 
Coverdale,  the  second  of  the  Tudor  translators  of  the  Bible, 
was  at  work  siinultanepusly  with  Olivetan.  The  P>ench  and 
English  undertakings  were  bound  together  by  stronger  links 


142  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

than (^^onolo^icaljie^  but  the  chronological  association  is 
worth  emphasizing.  It  was  not  at  home,  it  was  on  the 
continent  of  Europe,  that  the  first  Tudor  translators  of  the 
Bible   found    the    means    of  putting    their    work    into   type. 

/  Henry  VIII's  government  shared  the  antipathy  of  the  Sor- 
(  bonne  to  a  vernacular  version  of  the  Scriptures.  It  was  at 
German  or  Flemish  presses  that  Tyndale's  translation  of  the 
Pentateuch  and  New  Testament— the  parent  contributions 
to  the  Tudor  Bible — were  first  printed.  Two  years  after 
Lefevre's  New  Testament  in  French  was  issued  at  Paris, 
Tyndale's  New  Testament  in  English  came  out  at  Cologne 
(1525).  Tyndale  subsequently,  in  1530,  published  his 
anglicized  Pentateuch  with  a  German  printer,  apparently 
of  Wittenberg  ;  that  event  synchronized  with  the  issue  at 
Antwerp  of  the  whole  Bible  in  Lefevre's  French.  In  the 
German  edition  of  his  English  Pentateuch  Tyndale  nearly 
reached  the  limit  of  his  labour.  He  did  not,  like  Lefevre, 
complete  his  task,  but  in  his  remaining  effort  he  came  into 
more  intimate  relation  with  his  P"rench  competitor.  At  the 
idonticaL Antwerp  press  of  Martin  rEmpereur,  which  gave 
Lefevre.'s  finished  venture  to  the  world,  Tyndale  printed  in 
1 53 1  a  rendering  of  the  Book  of  Jonah.  This  was  the  last 
contribution  to  his  unfinished  Old  Testament  which  the 
Englishman  sent  to  press.  His  association  with  Lefevre's 
Antwerp  printer  continued  longer.  Under  the  same  auspices 
there  came  forth  two  years  later  a  second  improved  edition 
of  Tyndale's  New  Testament.  The  Antwerp  printer,  Martin. 
I'Empereur,  forms  a  personal  bond  between  the  first  com- 
plete French  Bible  of  the  P^rench  Renaissance  and  the  first 
English  Bible  which  Tyndale  began  and  failed  to  finish. 

^y  Tyndale's  successor,  Miles  Coverdale,  retrieved  his  defeat. 

I     Coverdale  compiled  the  first  English  translation  of  the  whole 

L  Bible.  It  appeared  in  i^35^ga[n_at- Antwerp,  although  at 
Jacob  van  Meteren's  and  not  at  Martin  I'Empereur's  press. 
Lefevre  had  brought  his  gi-eat  task  to  an  end  five  years  before, 
andOlivetan's  second  French  enterprise  belonged  to  Coverdale's 
year.  Two  years  later  there  was  a  reprint  of  Coverdale's 
Bible  in  Southwark.     No  English  translation  of  the  Bible  was 


]^:ARLY   TUDOR   VKRSIONS  14^^*^  / 

printed  in  linglancl  earlier.  In  1537,  sixty  years  after  the 
work  of  publishing  the  wScriptures  in  the  vernacular  had  been 
successfully  inaugurated  in  Paris,  England  made  a  first  entry 
into  the  field. 

It  is  abundantly  clear  that  the  early  English  translators  of 
the  Bible  were  cognizant  of  the  contemporary  French  efforts, 
and  owed  them  an  appreciable  stimulus.  That  the  same 
printer  at  Antwerp  should  be  simultaneously  engaged  on  the 
two  biblical  manuscripts  of  Lefevre  and  Tyndale  does  not 
exhaust  the  evidence  of  association.  The  second  complete 
version  of  the  English  Bible,  which  was  known  as  Matthew's 
Bible,  was  a  composite  compilation  of  both  Tyndale  and 
Coverdale's  work.  This  was  again  published  at  Antwerp 
by  van  Meteren,  and  appeared  in  1537.  The  Apocrypha 
was  now  first  included,  and  that  section  of  the  volume  offered 
signal  proof  of  English  knowledge  of  the  French  activity. 
A  part  of  the  Apocrypha  was  avowedly  translated  from 
Olivetan's  Protestant  version  of  the  French  Scriptures,  the 
Neufchatel  revision  of  Lefevre 's  great  work.  Matthew's  Bible, 
which  was  the  first  Bible  to  be  fully  legalized  for  sale  in 
England,  was  under  a  direct  obligation  to  France. 

Nor  was  it  only  as  far  afield  as  Antwerp  that  the  biblical  trans- 
lators of  the  French  Renaissance  and  of  Tudor  England  formed 
personal  alliances.  In  Paris  itself  the  partnership  was  pursued. 
Coyerdale  was  a  frequent  visitor  to  Paris,  and  there,  at  the 
well-equipped  press  of  Fran9ois  Regnault,  he  superintended 
,in  1539-40  the  printing  of  the  Great  Bible— th^^  third 
complete  English  version — which  was  constructed  of  earlier 
English  translations.  The  process  was  interrupted  by  the 
French  government,  which  scented  heresy  in  the  growing 
enthusiasm  for  the  vernacular  Scriptures,  but  Regnault's 
French  types  and  presses  were  transported  to  England, 
and  the  work  was  completed  in  London.  The  Great  Bible, 
which  is  virtually  a  specimen  of  fine  Parisian  typography, 
was  the  earliest  jversipn  of  the  Bible  to  receive  in  England 
official  ecclesiastical  recognition. 

Nor  does  the  account  of  the  debt  of  the  English  Bible  to 
French  exertion  by  any  means  end  here.    When,  during  Queen 


J44  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

Mary's  reign,  English  Protestants  sought  an  asylum  in  Geneva, 
they  came  directly  under  the  personal  influence  of  Calvin. 
The  Frenchman  then  ruled  the  vSwiss  city  with  despotic 
Q>^  /rigour.  His  chief  lieutenant,  another  Frenchman,  Theodore 
^  V^*^  Beza,  was,  despite  his  stern  Puritanism,  the  most  cultured 
\  humanist  among  French  religious  reformers.  The  English 
exiles  at  Geneva  devoted  their  energies  to  a  new  recension 
of  the  English  Bible,  and  Calvin  and  Beza  both  encouraged 
them  in  the  work.  On  this  version  the  English  Puritans 
grafted  in  both  notes  and  text  the  theological  doctrine  and 
exegesis  of  the  F'^rench  chieftains  of  their  city  of  refuge. 
Olivetan  was  a  chief  authority  for  the  English  scribes. 
Calvin  and  Beza  were  their  trusted  guides.  The  Genevan 
Bible,  which  was  compiled  under  French  auspices,  was  ikst 
printed  in  1560  in  the  French  atmosphere  of  Geneva. 
/  Elizabethan  Puritans  treated  the  book  for  half  a  century  with 
V  superstitious  reverence.  Tvv^o  hundred  early  reissues  of  the 
Genevan  Bible  attest  its  popularity  in  England.  Nor  did 
vScotland  escape  the  contagion.  The  first  Bible  to  be  printed 
in  the  vernacular  in  Scotland  followed  the  Gene\'an  >:ersion. 
It  was  issued  in  Edinburgh  in  1579.  The  influence  of  the 
Genevan  ^version  is  hardly  capable  of  exaggeration.  Its 
pronounced  pietistic  sentiment  gave  the  cue  to  many  d£.vo- 
tional  idiosyncrasies  of  Puritan  prose,  and  riveted  Hebraic 
fervour  on  the  style  of  much  profane  writing.  The  French 
energy  of  Geneva  greatly  stimulated  F^nglish  love  of  the 
Bible. 

The  connexion  of  the  Genevan  version  of  the  Bible  with 
its  place  of  origin  and  with  the  French  ruler  of  the  Swiss 
city,  was  kept  well  in  mind  by  successive  English  editors. 
Into  the  preliminary  almanac  there  was  introduced  at  an  early 
date  and  there  was  retained  in  permanence  the  entry  under 
the  day  May  27,  'Master  John  Calvin,  (jod's  servant,  died 
1 1564.'  Shakespeare  was  a  month  old  at  the  moment  of 
VCalvin's  death.  A  few  years  later  the  Genevan  version  gaxe 
him  his  first  knowledge  of  the  .Scriptures.  The  dramatist 
on  one  occasion  in  adult  life  acknowledged  the  pertinacity 
of  the  F>ench  in  translating  the  Bible  by  quoting  a  verse  in 


CALVIN'S    FRENCH    PROSE  145 

its  French  g-arb.  In  Henry  V  (ill.  vii.  70)  the  Dauphin  cites 
2  Peter  ii.  22^  in  an  early  French  version  :  '  Le  chien  est 
retourne  a  son  propre  vomissement,  et  la  truie  lavee  au 
bourbier.'  The  dramatist's  compliment  was  well  deserved. 
France  is  well  entitled  to  share  with  Germany  the  honour  of 
promoting  in  England  biblical  study  and  knowledge.  The 
influence  of  the  Genevan  version  was  especially  long-lived. 
The  English  Bishops'  Bible  of  1568  and  King  James's 
Authorized  Version  of  161 1  betray  at  many  points  the 
French  influence  of  Geneva. 

Ill 

Calvin 

Huguenot  writers  claim  for  Olivetan,  the  translator  of  the 
Bible,  a  great  advance  on  the  efforts  of  his  precursor  Lefevre, 
and  credit  him  with  an  influence  on  French  prose  which  out- 
distances that  of  all  other  writers  of  the  epoch.      But  it  is 
doubtful  if  such  pretensions  can  be  justified.    Olivetan's  merits 
consist  of  literal  and  simple  accuracy,  which,  while  it  well 
served  the  cause  of  piety,  exerted  small  effect  on  the  artistic 
development  of  literature.   As  a  writer  of  French  prose,  Calvin  \ 
(1509-1564),  Olivetan's  cousin  and  leader,  has  an  insistent  indi- 
viduality which  gives  him  a  commanding  place  in  the  history  I 
of  style  to  which  the  French  translators  of  the  Bible  can  sub- 
stantiate no  claim.     Calvin  was  far  more  than  a  translator. 
He  was  an  original  thinker  of  the  highest  power,  and  a  man 
of  immense  learning.      There  is  little  of  the  exuberance  of 
Hebraism  in  Calvin's  French  temperament.      The  influence 
which  he  exerted  on    the   literary   development  of  French 
writing   comes    from    the   majestic   sobriety    of  his   original 
thought.     His  greatest  work  in  French  prose,  his  Institution  I 
Chrctien7ie,  was  first  written  in  Latin,  and  then  translated  by  ' 
himself  into  French.     Constantly  revised  in  many  successive 
editions,  the  book  circulated  far  and  wide  in  the  two  languages 
with   ever-growing   authority.      Calvin's   Institution   opens  I 
with   a    manly    dedication    to   the    royal   apostle    of  French  I 
humanism,  Francis  I.    Calvin  tells  his  sovereign  that  he  writes  1 


146  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

for  Frenchmen,  for  his  fellow  countrymen.  It  was  in  their 
interest  that  he  compiled  his  encyclopaedic  plea  for  the 
philosophic  and  practical  recognition  of  God's  will  as  the  sole 
director  and  controller  of  man's  life. 

Calvin's  influence  owes  as  much  to  his  literary  temper  as 
to  his  doctrine.  Trained  in  ^uth  in  the  classics,  and  studying 
law  under  Alciati  ^  Bourges,  he  inaugurated  his  literary 
career  with  an  edition  of  Seneca's  ethical  tract  'On  Mercy' 
{De  Clemeniia).  Until  death  Calvin  cherished  a  deep  rever- 
ence for  the  achievements  and  tradition  of  classical  literature 
which  he  credits  with  bringing  varied  light  to  the  intellect 
of  man.  In  a  noble  passage  in  his  Iiistitiiiion  CJu'ctieiine 
he  applauds  the  pagan  writers'  '  admirable  lumiere  de  verite '. 
In  the  Roman  jurisconsults  he  detects  '  grande  clarte  de 
prudence  en  constituant  un  si  bon  ordre  et  une  police  si 
equitable  '.  To  Latin  literature  he  traces  the  invention  of  the 
art  of  logical  debate — '  I'art  de  disputer,  qui  est  la  maniere  de 
parler  avec  raison.'  Calvin  treats  the  endowments  of  his 
Latin  heroes  as  manifestations  of  God's  will  and  power,  and 
declares  neglect  or  contempt  of  the  benefits  which  their 
writings  offer  to  be  worthy  of  condign  punishment. 

An  almost  legal  precision  and  lucidity  are  Calvin's  supreme 
literary  virtues.  The  Latin  source  of  the  fine  qualities  of  his 
French  style  is  never  obscured.  Much  of  his  work  was  indeed 
penned  in  crisp,  clear  Latin.  It  has  been  said  of  him  that  he 
thought  in  Latin  when  he  wrote  in  French.  Yet  his  French 
writing  gives  him  his  literary  fame.  His  fluent  ease  in 
vernacular  composition,  the  copious  yet  pertinent  flow  of 
his  dialectic,  invested  the  French  language  under  his  hand 
with  a  suppleness  and  tractability  which  were  almost  new 
to  it.  His  tone  ranges  over  many  keys.  At  times  he 
rises  to  a  chastened  eloquence  ;  at  times  he  sinks  to  a  dry 
sarcasm  which  is  coloured  by  a  Gallic  turn  of  wit.  His 
attacks  on  '  the  sophisters  of  the  Sorbonne  ',  on  the  champions 
of  what  he  regards  as  Roman  superstition,  are  alive  with 
Gallic  raillery  and  badinage.  In  the  result  he  gave  French 
prose  a  versatility  and  facility  the  merit  of  which  can  hardly 
be   over-estimated.     His    vocabulary    and    the    turn    of   his 


CALMN'S   ENGLISH    l^UPILS  147 

sentences  have  a  modern  ring-  which  no  other  of  the  great 
practitioners  of  his  century  rivalled.  Compared  with  Calvin's 
general  manner  of  writing,  even  Montaigne's  style  is  archaic 
and  unfamiliar, 

Calvin's   doctrinal    influence   on    the    religious   reform    of 
England    is   an    immense    tribute   to   the    fascination    of  his 
dialectical  energy.     It   was  the  fruit    of  his  literary  power 
no    less   than   of   his   theological   ardour.      Much    personal 
intercourse  took  place  between  the  master  and  his  English 
disciples,    and  greatly  increased  his  authority.       When,  on' 
Henry  VIII's  death  and  Edward  M's  accession,  ecclesiastical; 
reform  was  carried  to  its  completion  in  England,  the  chiet  \ 
organizers  of  the  Protestant  movement,  Protector  Somerset^J 
and  Archbishop  Cranmer,  were  in  repeated  correspondence! 
with   Calvin.      They   urged   him   to  visit   England   for   the! 
purpose   of  healing  differences   of  opinion  among  English 
reformers,  and  of  removing  the  last  obstacles  to  the  national 
acceptance  of  his  teaching.      The   Frenchman  declined  the 
invitation  on  the  score  of  failing  health,  but  his  refusal  was 
followed  by  a  gift  to  the  boy-king  of  copies  of  his  books. 

Nor  during  a  great  part  of  Elizabeth's  reign  was  Calvin's 
reputation  and  authority  seriously  questioned  by  the  leaders 
of  the  English  Church.     Regard  for  him  and  his  writings  \ 
was   a  link   binding  together    mutually    hostile    parties    of 
English    Protestants.     Archbishop  Grindal  and  Archbishop  / 
Whitgift  both  respected  his  spiritual  theory  and  the  clarity  of 
his  reasoning,  if  they  disagreed  with  one  another  in  their  atti- 
tude to  his  ritual.     Calvin  was  to  a  large  degree  the  doctrinal 
oracle  of  the  Elizabethan  people,  and  the  technical  language  / 
of  his  creed^predestination,  election,  reprobation,  grace,  faith  1 
without  works — was  absorbed  by  popular   English   speech./ 
Archbishop  Cranmer  and   Archbishop  Whitgift   were  both 
writers  of  pithy  and  forcible  English,  and  they  were   more 
deeply  versed  in  Calvin's  vocabulary  than  any  other  Church- 
men of  their  day.     They  came  under  the  irresistible  influence 
of  his  direct  and  dignified  diction,  and  spread  respect  for  it 
among  their  fellow  countrymen.     '  The  reverend  fathers  of 
our  Church  call  M.  Calvin  one  of  ^/te  best  writers^'  wrote 

L  2 


148  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

approvingly  some   Protestant   clerg-ymen    of  the  Church  of 
England  in  a  manifesto  on  Anglican  dogma  in   1599.^ 

AH  Calvin's  writings,  whether  in  Latin  or  French,  were 
translated  into  English.  Some  of  his  French  sermons  were 
published  in  London  as  early  as  1560.  Between  that  year 
and  1610— a  period  of  fifty  years— there  came  out  in  England 
at  least  seventy-five  editions  of  English  translations  of  various 
French  or  Latin  works  of  Calvin.  Calvin's  standard  treatise. 
The  Insiittition  of  Christian  Religion,  which  his  admirers 
reckoned  the  chief  jewel  in  his  literary  crown,  originally 
appeared  in  England  in  1561,  and  before  the  end  of  the 
century  the  English  version  went  through  at  least  five  editions, 
which  embodied  its  author's  successive  revisions  and  bulky 
amplifications.  Thomas  Norton,  the  Elizabethan  translator, 
well  typified  in  his  varied  activities  the  temper  of  the  epoch. 
A  successful  barrister  and  an  energetic  member  of  the  House 
of  Commons,  Norton  sought  sober  recreation  in  secular 
literature  as  well  as  in  theological  debate.  He  lacked  any 
gift  of  brilliance.  Three  of  the  five  acts  of  Gorbodtic^  the 
first  regular  tragedy  which  the  English  language  knew,  are 
from  his  leaden  pen,  and  he  contributed  to  the  clumsy  metrical 
version  of  the  psalms  by  Sternhold  and  Hopkins.  Strong 
puritan  sympathies  led  him  to  set  immense  store  by  the 
doctrine  of  Calvin's  InstiiiLtioii  of  Christian  Religion.  At 
the  same  time  the  merits  of  the  Frenchman's  exact  style  made 
a  strong  appeal  to  his  intellectual  temper.  Calvin's  habit  ot 
;  packing  '  great  plenty  of  matter  in  small  room  of  w^ords 
'  rendered  the  sentences ',  according  to  Norton,  '  so  full  as 
nothing  might  well  be  added  without  idle  superfluity  and 
again  so  nighly  pared  that  nothing  could  be  minished  without 
taking  away  some  necessary  substance  of  matter  therein 
expressed.'  Norton  lacked  Calvin's  command  of  the  literary 
arts,  and  his  effort  runs  lamely  after  the  original.  It  is 
unfortunate  that  Norton  should  have  preferred  Calvin's  Latin 
I  to  his  French  text.  But  Norton's  opaque  leaves  fail  to  exclude 
Calvin's  luminosity  altogether.     Here  is  the  guise  (in  modern 

'   Cf.  Hooker's  Ecclesiastical  Polity,  the  Fifth  Hook,  ed.  Ronald  Bayne, 
1902,  p.  621. 


CALVIN   IN   ENGLISH  149 

spelling^)  in  which  Norton  presented  to  Ehzabethan  readers 
Calvin's  rational  plea  for  the  study  by  Christians  of  pagan 
classical  literature.  The  rhetorical  flow  has,  however  faintly, 
the  right  current. 

So  oft  therefore  as  we  light  upon  profane  writers,  let  us  be 
put  in  mind  by  that  marvellous  light  of  truth  that  shineth  in 
them,  that  the  wit  of  man,  howmuchsoever  it  be  perverted 
and  fallen  from  the  first  integrity,  is  yet  still  clothed  and 
garnished  with  excellent  gifts  of  God.  If  we  consider  that 
the  spirit  of  God  is  the  only  fountain  of  truth,  we  will  neither 
refuse  nor  despise  the  truth  itself  wheresoever  it  shall  appear, 
except  we  will  dishonourably  use  the  spirit  of  God.  .  .  .  vShall 
we  deny  that  the  truth  shined  to  the  old  lawyers  which  have 
set  forth  civil  order  and  discipline  with  so  great  equity  } 
Shall  we  say  that  the  philosophers  were  blind  both  in  that 
exquisite  contemplation  and  cunning  description  of  nature  } 
vShall  we  say  that  they  had  no  wit,  which  by  setting  in  order 
the  art  of  speech  have  taught  us  to  speak  with  reason  ?  Shall 
we  say  that  they  were  mad  which  in  setting  forth  Physic  have 
employed  their  diligence  for  us  }  What  of  all  the  mathematical 
sciences  ?  Shall  we  think  them  doting  errors  of  madmen  ? 
No,  rather  we  cannot  read  the  writing  of  the  old  men  con- 
cerning these  things  without  great  admiration  of  their  wit. 
But  shall  we  think  anything  praiseworthy  or  excellent,  which 
we  do  not  reknowledge  to  come  of  God  }  Let  us  be  ashamed 
of  so  great  unthankfulness,  into  which  the  heathen  poets  fell 
not,  which  confessed  that  both  philosophy  and  laws  and  all 
good  arts  were  the  inventions  of  Gods.^ 

Despite  its  debt  to  Latin,  Norton's  great  volume  is  associated 
with  France  beyond  risk  of  forgetfulness.  Norton's  labour 
begins  with  Calvin's  long  preliminary  address  to  Francis  I, 
so  that  in  the  English  book  the  headline  of  the  first  seventeen 
pages  bears  the  suggestive  legend  'The  preface  to  the 
French  King '. 

Another  imposing  venture  of  like  kind  may  be  cited  by  way 
of  illustrating  how,  in  the  dark  years  preceding  the  dawn  of 
the  Elizabethan  era,  the  nascent  literary  taste  joined  hands 
with  religious  zeal  in  paying  honour  to  Calvin.  Arthur 
Golding,  the  friend  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  and  himself  a  leading 

'  Calvin's  IfistUHiion,  London,  1582,  f.  Si. 


I50  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

1  figure  in  the  first  generation  of  literary  Elizabethans,  made  his 
earliest  fame  by  versifying  in  English  Ovid's  Metamorphoses. 
He  fully  sustained  his  reputation  in  later  years  by  his  industry 
in  translating  direct  from  the  French  many  hundreds  of  Calvin's 
sermons.  Golding's  giant  volumes  found  ready  purchasers. 
Typographical  skill  was  freely  lavished  on  them.  There  are 
few  finer  folios  of  the  period  than  Golding's  rendering  from 
the  French  of  two  hundred  '  Sermons  of  M.  John  Calvin  upon 
the  fifth  book  of  Moses  called  Deuteronomie '.  Nashe,  the 
Elizabethan  satirist  and  critic,  enters  Golding's  name  on  a 
'  page  of  praise ',  not  merely  for  his  toil  on  Ovid,  but  for  '  many 
exquisite  editions  of  divinity  turned  by  him  out  of  the  French 
tongiie  into  our  own '}  Nashe,  who  was  more  addicted  to 
blame  than  praise  of  dogmatic  theology,  only  bestowed  the 
complimentary  epithet  of '  exquisite  '  on  volumes  of  divinity 
which  were  of  French  parentage. 

Calvin's  lieutenant  and  successor,  Theodore  Beza,  and  his 
pamphleteering  aide-de-camp  Pierre  Viret  were  equally  familiar 
names  on  the  title-pages  of  Elizabethan  translations.  The  style 
of  clerical  authors  in  England  as  a  result  caught  much 
dominant  colour  from  the  abounding  Calvinist  literature. 
The  greatest  of  all  Elizabethan  theologians,  Richard  Hooker, 
despite  his  antagonism  to  the  Calvinist  polity  and  to  much  of 
Calvin's  doctrinal  theory,  proved  in  his  Ecclesiastical  Polity 
that  he  closely  studied  the  works  of  Calvin  and  of  Calvin's  friend 
Beza.  More  direct  and  obvious  was  Hooker's  dependence  on 
the  patristic  researches  of  Beza's  disciple  Simon  Goulart, 
a  native  of  Senlis,  who  became  pastor  of  the  Genevan  church 
in  Hooker's  youth  (1572)  and  was,  after  Hooker's  death,  ruler 
of  the  Genevan  state  in  succession  to  Beza  from  1605  to 
1628.2  Yet  to  Calvin  himself  Hooker  owed  more  than  lies 
on  the  surface.  His  English  style  is  far  more  cumbrous,  com- 
plicated, and  resonant  than  Calvin's  French.     He  absorbed 


^  Nashe's  preface  to  Greene's  Menaphon,  1589,  in  Nashe's  Works,  ed. 
McKerrow,  iii.  319. 

^  Goulart,  the  third  occupant  of  the  Genevan  throne,  survived  Hooker, 
who  was  some  nine  years  his  junior,  by  twenty-eight  years. 


AMYOT'S   ACHIEVEMENT  151 

much  of  the  sonorous  grandeur  of  the  English  version  of  the 
Bible  and  was  greatly  influenced  by  his  reading  in  St.  Augus- 
tine and  the  early  fathers,  and  in  the  masters  of  Latin  prose. 
His  massiveness  and  ampleness  are  more  imposing  than 
Calvin's  simplicity.  But  the  ceaseless  flow  of  the  sentences, 
high  sounding  and  rhythmical,  with  the  uniformly  logical 
arrangement  of  argument,  absorbs  something  of  the  facility 
and  clarity  of  Calvin's  measured  tones.  At  any  rate,  in 
regard  alike  to  matter  and  method,  Calvin's  Iiisiittitio7t 
Chreiieime  is  the  French  book  which  best  deserves  a  place 
beside  Hooker's  Ecclesiastical  Polity. 


IV 

Amyot 

Whatever  the  potency  of  the  French  influence  on  Elizabethan 
theology,  French  prose  of  the  Renaissance  worked  with  even 
more  stirring  effect  on  the  secular  stream  of  serious  Elizabethan 
literature.  From  this  point  of  view  no  Frenchman  deserves 
a  larger  measure  of  attention  from  Elizabethan  students  than 
Jacques  Amyot  (1513-1593)-  Junior  by  some  four  years  to 
Calvin  and  surviving  him  by  as  many  as  twenty-nine,  Amyot 
was  an  ecclesiastic  of  a  very  different  theological  school.  He 
was  a  Catholic  of  unquestioned  orthodoxy,  if  of  a  wide 
tolerance.  His  religious  opinions  are,  however,  imma- 
terial to  the  present  issue.  Here  he  comes  into  the  arena 
as  a  Hberal^hurnanist,  a  typical  scholar  of  the  French  Re- 
naissance. A  competent  Greek  scholar,  he  recovered  much 
Greek  literature  from  manuscript  sources  and  cherished  a 
passion  for  literary  research.  His  main  energies  were  devoted 
to  translating  Greek  literature  into  French,  to  disseminating 
Greek  literature  among  his  fellow  countrymen  who  were  no 
scholars.  French  Renaissance  scholars  deemed  it  incumbent 
on  them  to  share  their  knowledge  with  the  French  people, 
and  they  placed  the  art  of  accurate  translation  from  the  classics 
high  among  branches  of  literary  endeavour.  Amyot  brought 
the  art  of  translating  Greek  prose  into  French  near  the  pitch 


152  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

of  perfection.  His  efforts  rendered  his  unlearned  countrymen 
two  services.  On  the  one  hand  he  famih'arized  them  with  new 
and  stimulating  Greek  ideas.  On  the  other  hand,  French 
prose  style  was  brought  by  his  pen  many  steps  nearer  the 
neatness,  the  briskness,  and  suppleness  of  the  Greek  idiom, 
with  which  it  always  had  general  affinity.  Amyot's  largest 
labour,  his  translation  of  Plutarch's  Lives,  was  rendered  into 
English,  and  thereby  English  minds  and  English  prose  were 
made  sharers  in  Amyot's  intellectual  gifts  to  France. 

Amyot's  career  is  worthy  of  attention.  He  came  of  the 
humblest  parentage,  of  poor  working-class  people.  His 
native  place,  Melun,  lay  within  thirty  miles  of  Paris.  As  a  poor 
student  he  studied  Greek  at  Paris  University  and  then  obtained 
an  appointment  as  private  tutor.  In  that  employment  he 
came  under  the  notice  of  Queen  Margaret  of  Navarre,  the 
motherly  patroness  of  humanism.  She  appointed  him  teacher 
of  Greek  in  the  University  of  Bourges,  a  university  of 
fifteenth-century  foundation,  which  was  famous  for  its  devotion 
to  law  and  to  the  classics.  The  young  teacher's  first  literary 
undertaking,  which  he  completed  at  Bourges,  was  a  transla- 
tion of  the  JLethiopica  of  the  Greek  novelist  Heliodorus. 
Already  in  holy  orders,  he  received  from  Francis  I,  when  the 
king  was  nearing  death,  useful  preferment  to  an  ecclesiastical 
sinecure,  to  the  abbacy  of  Bellozane.  The  emoluments  of  the 
benefice  he  spent  on  a  four  years'  tour  in  Italy  in  search  of 
Greek  manuscripts.  He  worked  in  the  library  of  St.  Mark's, 
Venice,  and  in  the  Vatican  Library  at  Rome.  At  A^enice  he 
discovered  manuscripts  of  as  many  as  five  hitherto  unknown 
books  of  Diodorus  Siculus,  the  Greek  historian.  Charac- 
teristically he  translated  these  books  into  his  own  tongue, 
before  publishing  the  recovered  text.  On  returning  to  France 
he  was  made  tutor  to  Francis  I's  grandsons,  two  sons  of  the 
new  king,  Henry  II.  His  pupils  afterwards  succeeded  in  turn 
to  the  throne  of  France  as  Charles  IX  and  Henry  III,  and 
their  names  loom  large  in  the  literary  annals  of  the  French 
Renaissance. 

While  engaged  at  court  Amyot  completed  the  work  by 
which  he  gained  his  fame,  his  French  translation  of  Plutarch's 


AMYOT'S   CAREER  153 

Lives  (1 559M  His  French  rendering  of  a  second  (}reck  novel, 
Daphnis  diid  Chloc,  by  LongiLs^also  gained  much  popularity, 
and  for  his  royal  pupils  he  prepared  a  treatise  on  rhetoric, 
which  gives  evidence  of  educational  sagacity.  When  his  elder 
pupil  ascended  the  throne  as  Charles  IX,  Amyot  in  1 560 
obtained  the  high  office  of  Grand  Almoner  to  the  king,  and 
ten  years  later  he  owed  to  the  same  patron  the  bishopric  of 
Auxerre.  The  see  lay  amid  vineyards  some  109  miles  south- 
east of  Paris.  He  lived  on  as  bishop  for  twenty-three  years 
from  1570  to  1593.  The  days  of  his  episcopate  were  troubled 
by  the  religious  wars,  which  he  deplored,  and  by  litigation 
with  his  chapter.  Yet  one  literary  labour  of  no  mean  value 
or  extent  belongs  to  the  closing  epoch  of  his  life  :  it  is  a  trans- 
lation into  French  of  Plutarch's  philosophical  works.  Amyot's 
career  covered  the  best  part  of  the  sixteenth  century.  He 
died  at  the  ripe  age  of  eighty  in  1593,  when  Shakespeare  was 
twenty-nine  years  old. 

Save  for  his  work  on  Diodorus,  the  Greek  historian,  which 
attracted  small  notice,  Amyot's  literary  efforts  in  translation 
enjoyed  an  immense  reputation  and  influence.  He  trans- 
formed the  Greek  novels  of  Heliodorus  and  Longus  into 
living  and  lasting  French  fiction.  Beneath  his  wand  Plutarch 
the  biographer  and  the  moralist  became  indistinguishable, 
with  the  mass  of  French  readers,  from  an  original  French 
author.  Plutarch's  Lives  had  attracted  little  attention  fromj 
the  humanists  before  Amyot  turned  the  book  into  French.! 
The  skill  with  which  the  conversion  was  effected  awoke  a 
responsive  chord  in  the  French  mind  which  has  never  ceased 
to  vibrate.  Plutarch  the  biographer  owes  his  modern  fame 
chiefly  to  Amyot.^ 

Amyot  has  himself  described  his  method  as  a  translator  an 
his  aim  as  a  writer.     '  Take  heed,'  he  bids  us,  '  and  find  the 
words  that  are  fittest  to  signify  the  thing  of  w^hich  we  mean  to 

^  A  minute  critical  analysis  of  Amyot's  method  as  translator  of 
Plutarch's  Lh'cs  will  be  found  in  a  recent  monograph  by  M.  Rene 
Sturel,  entitled y«^//i?i-  Amyot,  t7-aducteur  dcs  Vies  paralleles  de  Plutarqiie^ 
Paris,  1908.  M.  Sturel's  learned  study  is  issued  in  the  Bibliotheqtie 
Litteraire  de  la  Refjaissance,  dirigee  par  M.  P.  de  Nolhac  et  M.  Dorez. 
(Premiere  serie.     Tome  huiti^me.) 


154  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

yspeak.      Choose    words  which   seem   the    pleasantest,   which 

/  sound  best  in  our  ears,  which  are  customary  in  the  mouths  of 

/  good  talkers,  which  are   honest  natives    and   no   foreigners.' 

^   The  conditions  of  first-rate  prose  are  hardly  capable  of  more 

satisfactory  definition.     Amyot  practised  as  he  preached,  and 

Amyot's  Plutarch  remains  one  of  the  best  renderings  of  the 

Greek  into  a  modern  language. 

Plutarch's  style  was  a  good  model.  He  is  clear,  simple, 
and  concise.  Amyot's  translation  largely  respects  Plutarch's 
tone.  The  period  is  of  moderate  length,  and  when  the  sentence 
is  prolonged  there  is  an  adequate  balance  in  the  sequence  of 
i  the  clauses.  There  are  no  awkward  inversions  nor  elisions 
of  articles  and  prepositions  which  were  frequent  blemishes  of 
mediaeval  French  prose.  His  vocabulary  too  is  peculiarly 
French,  and  it  presents  the  language  of  cultured  circles,  stripped 
of  Italianisms.  Nor  did  Amyot  favour  latinized  or  archaic 
terminology.  He  is  said  to  have  spoken  his  own  language  with 
singular  polish  and  purity,  and  to  have  written  as  he  spoke. 
At  the  same  time  Amyot  although  a  sound  scholar  was  not 
impeccable.  He  travels  occasionally  from  his  text.  He  is 
less  severe  than  the  Greek,  somewhat  more  redundant  in 
his  epithets  and  adverbs.  But  his  amplifications  tend  to 
picturesqueness.     In  the  result  Amyot  was  accepted  by  the 

I  French  Academy  of  the  seventeenth  century  as  the  first 
French  writer  of  prose  who  deserved  academic  recognition. 
Amyot's  choice  of  theme  merits  no  less  applause  than  his 
style.  In  lifting  the  curtain  on  the  ancient  experience  gar- 
nered in  Plutarch's  Lives  and  in  his  Morals^  he  rendered  vast 
service  not  to  P'rance  alone  but  to  the  world  at  large.  Plutarch's 
Morals  consists  of  miscellaneous  ethical  essays  which  display 
a  broad-minded  sagacity  and  charity.  But  it  is  the  chief  glory 
of  Amyot's  Greek  master  to  have  placed  biography,  in  the 
1^  category  of  the  literary  arts.  Plutarch's  method  may  not  at  the 
first  glance  promise  any  very  pregnant  result.  He  is  in  essence 
an  anecdotal  gossip.  He  loves  to  accumulate  microscopic 
particulars  of  men's  lives,  the  smallest  traits  of  character, 
the  least  apparently  impressive  habits.  But  he  arranged  his 
ample  and  seemingly  trivial  details  with  so  magical  a  skill  as 


PLUTARCH   IN   FRANCE  155 

to   evolve    a   speaking  likeness  of  his  chosen  heroes,  all  of 
whom  were  ot  dignified  stature. 

The  sentiment  which  Amyot's  labour  on  Plutarch's  Lives 
evoked  among  his  countrymen  is  well  expressed  by  his 
most  eminent  disciple  in  France,  by  Montaigne.  'I  do  with 
some  reason,  as  me  seemeth,'  wrote  Montaigne,  'give  prick  and 
praise  unto  Jaques  Amyot  above  all  our  French  writers,  not  only 
for  his  natural  purity  and  pure  elegancy  of  the  tongue  .  .  . 
but  above  all,  I  con  him  thanks  that  he  hath  had  the  hap 
to  choose,  and  knowledge  to  cull-out  so  worthy  a  work  [as 
Plutarch's  Lives]  and  a  book  so  fit  to  the  purpose,  therewith  I 
to  make  so  invaluable  a  present  unto  his  country.  W^e  thatj 
are  in  the  number  of  the  ignorant  had  been  utterly  confounded, 
had  not  his  book  raised  us  from  out  the  dust  of  ignorance 
...  It  is  our  breviary.'  Montaigne's  enthusiasm  for  Amyot's 
labours  as  Plutarch's  interpreter  was  undying  in  France. 
Madame  Roland  re-embodied  it  in  her  famous  salutation  of 
Plutarch's  work  as  '  la  pature  des  grandes  ames  '.  Through 
Amyot's  exertion  Plutarch's  Lives  made  a  wide  and  an  endur- 
ing appeal,  and  the  unlettered  reader  proved  as  enthusiastic 
an  admirer  of  their  worth  as  the  scholar. 

Religious  differences  barely  touched  the  attitude  of  French- 
men to  classical  revelation.  Catholic  and  Protestant  wor- 
shipped side  by  side  at  Plutarch's  shrine.  The  French 
apostle  of  Plutarch's  art  of  life  was  an  orthodox  Catholic 
bishop.  Yet  Plutarch's  vogue  was  never  confined  to  Catholic 
circles.  The  Huguenots  absorbed  the  story  and  teaching  of 
Plutarch's  Lives  with  a  vehement  avidity.  There  is  hardly 
a  Huguenot  general  or  statesman  (whose  memoirs  are  extant) 
who  does  not  pay  tribute  to  the  moral  stimulus  he  derived  in 
youth  from  reading  Amyot.  In  a  well-known  letter  which 
Henry  IV  of  Navarre  wrote  to  his  cjueen  from  the  field  of 
battle  during  his  fiercest  struggle  with  the  league,  he  addressed 
her  in  terms  like  these :  '  Living  God,  you  could  have  an- 
nounced to  me  nothing  which  was  more  agreeable  than  the 
news  of  the  pleasure  which  you  have  derived  from  reading 
Plutarch.  Plutarch  always  offers  me  a  fresh  novelty.  To 
love  him  is  to  love  me,  because  he  has  been  for  long,  from 


156  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

my  infancy,  my  tutor.  My  good  mother,  to  whom  I  owe 
everything,  put  this  book  into  my  hands  when  I  was  hardly 
more  than  a  sucking  babe.' 

The  influence  of  Amyot's  achievement  illustrates  better 
than  any  other  the  moral  and  intellectual  elevation  which  the 
humanists  of  the  French  Renaissance  fostered  by  their  study  of 
the  classics.  The  scholars  and  men  of  letters  not  merely  appre- 
ciated the  aesthetic  quality  of  Greek  and  Latin  literature,  but 
they  were  led  and  they  led  their  students  instinctively  to  apply 
to  current  purposes  of  life  the  wisdom  of  the  golden  past. 

Elizabethan  men  of  letters  quickly  yielded  to  the  fascination 
of  Plutarch's  Lives.  But  they  owed  the  introduction  to 
Amyot,  the  excellence  of  whose  style  ranked  him,  in  the 
opinion  of  Elizabethan  critics,  with  the  Renaissance  masters 
of  prose  throughout  Europe.  Gabriel  Harvey,  the  Cambridge 
scholar,  declared  him  to  be  as  fine  a  writer  in  "French,  as  Bembo 
was  in  Latin,  Machiavelli  in  Italian,  or  Guevara  in  Spanish,^ 
Sir  Thomas  North's  English  translation  of  Plutarch's  Lives 
wholly  came  from  the  French  version.  It  produced  on 
England  something  of  the  effect  which  Amyot  produced  in 
France.  North  was  a  country  gentleman  whose  only  public 
service,  apart  from  local  county  administration,  was  to  accom- 
pany his  elder  brother.  Lord  North,  on  a  special  embassy  to 
Paris  to  congratulate  Amyot's  pupil,  Henry  III,  on  his  acces- 
sion to  the  French  throne  in  1574.  It  was  four  years  after  this 
visit  to  France  that  North  published  in  a  massive  folio  his 
Plutarch's  Lives  in  English.  North's  dependence  on  Amyot 
is  undisguised.  On  the  threshold  of  his  book  he  sets  a 
translation  of  Amyot's  address  to  the  reader,  in  which  the 
Frenchman  expounds  the  value  of  Plutarch's  biographies.  A 
comparison  of  North's  rendering  with  the  French  version  shows 
an  admirable  fidelity.  There  is  hardly  an  epithet  or  adverb 
of  Amyot's  invention  which  North  omits.  Amyot's  redundant 
embellishments  or  expansions  of  his  Greek  text  are  all  re- 
produced in  the  English.  In  the  two  sentences,  for  example, 
in  which  Amyot  describes  the  heroic  efforts  of  Cleopatra  and 

'  Gabriel  Harvey,  Pierces  Supererogation,  1593,  quoted  in  Elizabethan 
Critical  Essays,  ed.  Gregory  Smith,  vol.  ii,  p.  276. 


SIR   THOMAS   NORTH  157 

her  women  to  drag  the  dying  and  helpless  Antony  into  their' 
secret  place  of  refuge,  the  Frenchman  introduces  thirty- two 
words  which  the  Greek  text  fails  to  authorize.  Thirty  of 
these  superfluities  are  duly  reproduced  by  North.^  In  the 
result,  North  is  a  step  further  removed  than  Amyot  from  the 
simple  directness  of  the  Greek.  Occasionally  he  misunder- 
stands Amyot  and  makes  complete  havoc  of  Plutarch's 
meaning.  Rut  North  reproduces  the  French,  if  not  the 
Greek,  style  as  closely  as  the  English  idiom  allows.  Amyot's 
picturesqueness  of  expression  gains  rather  than  loses  in  the 
English  version. 

North's  work  fills  a  most  important  place  in  the  develop- 
ment of  English  prose.  It  is  the  largest  piece  that  had  yet 
been  contributed  to  our  secular  literature  ;  it  is  the  primordial 
monument  of  ripe  literary  composition,  and  one  of  the 
richest  sources  of  our  literary  language.  For  the  unaffected 
vivacity  which  is  its  most  salient  feature,  Amyot  must  be 
allowed  the  main  responsibility. 

Of  the  influence  exerted  by  North's  work  on  Elizabethan 
development  of  style  and  thought,  no  apology  is  needed  for 
quoting    the    instance    that   is    most    familiar    to    students. 


*  The  passages  referred  to  are  here  quoted  in  parallel  columns.  The 
italicized  words  in  each  quotation  are  those  for  which  the  Greek  gives  no 
authority.  The  words  between  square  brackets  in  North's  sentences  are 
additions  of  his  own. 

Amyot.  North. 

*  Car  on  tiroit  ce  pauvre  hoiinne  '  For  they  plucked  up  poore  An- 
tout  souille  de  sang  tirant  aux  tonius  all  bloody  [as  he  was],  and 
traicts  de  la  mort,  et  qui  tendoit  drawing  on  with  pangs  of  death, 
les  deux  mains  i  Cleopatra,  et  se  who  holding  up  his  hands  to  Cleo- 
soublevoit  le  mieulx  qiiil  poiivoit.  patra,  raised  up  him  selfe  as  well 
C'estoit  une  chose  bien  malaisee  as  he  could.  It  was  a  hard  thing 
que  de  le  monler,  mesmement  a  for  these  women  to  do,  to  lift  him 
des  femmes,  toutefois  Cleopatra  en  up  ;  but  Cleopatra  stowping  downe 
grande  peine  s'effofceaut  de  toute  with  her  head,  putting  to  all  her 
sa  puissance.,  la  teste  courbee  centre  strength  to  the  uttermost  power., 
bas  sans  jamais  lascher  les  cordes,  did  lift  him  up  with  much  adoe, 
feit  tant  ix  la  Jin  qu'elle  le  monta  and  never  let  go  her  hold,  with  the 
et  lira  ii  soy,  <\  I'aide  de  ceulx  helpe  of  the  women  beneath  that 
d'abas  qui  luy  donnoient  courage,  bad  her  be  of  good  corage,  and 
et  tiroyent  autant  de  peine  a.  la  were  as  sorie  to  see  her  labor  so, 
voir  ainsi  travailler,  comme  elle  as  she  her  selfe.'  (North's /V«/art7«, 
mesme.'     (Amyot,  ch.  Ixxvii.)  Tudor  translations,  vol.  vi,  p.  80.) 


i5<S  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

Plutarch  in  North  s  version  was  an  inspirer  of  Shakespeare. 
Shakespeare's  observant  eye  detected  in  Plutarch's  Lives, 
as  revealed  to  him  by  North  through  Amyot,  a  stimulating 
source  of  inspiration.  No  depreciation  of  the  working  of 
Shakespeare's  genius  attends  a  frank  recognition  of  the 
immense  debt  which  his  Roman  plays  owe  to  Plutarch's 
suggestion.  The  character  of  Theseus  in  A  Midsummer 
Nighfs  Dream  is  a  first  faint  echo  of  North's  voice.  But 
the  three  Roman  ^\a.ys,  Jtiliiis  Caesar,  Antony  and  Cleopatra, 
and  Coriolaniis,  mark  the  consummation  of  Shakespeare's 
debt.  The  Greek  biographer  and  his  translators  are  worthy 
of  their  disciple. 

The  English  dramatist  was  not  the  first  to  perceive  in 
Plutarch  a  rich  mine  of  material  for  drama.  For  the  moment 
I  will  only  state  the  fact,  commonly  overlooked  in  our  literary 
histories,  that  some  years  before  Shakespeare  turned  Plutarch's 
Lives  of  Roman  heroes  to  dramatic  purposes  at  least  five 
French  dramatists  had  levied  similar  loans  on  the  same  source. 
Plutarch's  lives  of  Julius  Caesar,  Brutus,  Mark  Antony,  and 
Coriolanus  had  been  wrought  into  tragedies  on  the  French 
stage  before  Shakespeare  approached  those  themes.^  Here 
it  is  only  pertinent  to  notice  how  North's  prose  was  frequently 
converted  by  Shakespeare  with  the  smallest  possible  change 
into  vivacious  blank  verse  and  genuine  poetry.  The  process 
illustrates  not  only  Shakespeare's  ingenuity,  but  the  singular 
strength  lurking  in  North's  style  which  is  in  so  marked  a 
degree  the  gift  of  Amyot's  French.  The  perfected  prose 
of  the  French  Renaissance  was  one  of  the  many  influences 
working  at  a  short  remove  on  Shakespeare's  dramatic 
language.  The  close  of  Antony's  dying  speech  in  Plutarch's 
life  of  Mark  Antony  is  rendered  by  North  from  the  French, 
in  oratio  obliqtia  thus:  'And  as  for  himself,  he  entreated 
that  she  [Cleopatra]  should  not  lament  nor  sorrow  for  the 
miserable  change  of  his  fortune  at  the  end  of  his  days,  but 
rather  that  she  should  think  him  the  more  fortunate  for  the 
former  triumphs  and  honours  he  had  received,  considering 

■  See  ittfra,  pp.  386  seq. 


SHAKESPEARE  AND  PLUTARCH     159 

that  while  he  lived  he  was  the  noblest  and  greatest  prince  of 
the  world,  and  that  now  he  was  overcome  not  cowardly,  but 
valiandy,  a  Roman  by  another  Roman.'  Shakespeare  trans- 
forms this  passage  into  nraiio  rcc/a.  Shakespeare's  Antony 
with  his  last  breath  bids  Cleopatra — 

The  miserable  change  now  at  my  end 

Lament  nor  sorrow  at;  but  please  your  thoughts 

In  feeding  them  with  those  my  former  fortunes 

\\'herein  I  lived,  the  greatest  prince  o'  the  world, 

The  noblest ;  and  do  now  not  basely  die. 

Not  cowardly  put  off  my  helmet  to 

JNlv  countryman  ;    a  Roman  by  a  Roman 

\'aliantly  vanquished. 

There  are  slight  inversions,  and  about  half  a  dozen  words  are 
added.  But  Amyot  may  almost  be  held  responsible  for  one 
of  the  most  tragic  utterances  penned  by  the  English  dramatist. 
Shakespeare's  Roman  plays  offer  a  hundred  similar  examples 
of  his  loans  on  English  prose  which  is  ofErench  inspiration. 
Amyot  is  a  hero  of  English  as  well  as  of  Erench  literature. 


Rabelais 

Rabelais  (1495- 1 553)  w^as  born  within  five  years  of  the  close 
of  the  fifteenth  century.  He  is  the  senior  of  Calvin  by  fourteen 
years  and  of  Amyot  by  eighteen  years.  He  died  ten  years 
earlier  than  the  French  reformer,  and  forty  years  earlier 
than  the  translator  of  Plutarch.  Rabelais  is  of  the  era  of  Sir 
Thomas  More  and  the  Earl  of  Surrey,  both  of  whom  he  out- 
lived, rather  than  of  the  epoch  of  Spenser  and  Hooker,  w^hose 
lives  just  began  when  the  frenchman's  closed.  Yet  his  influence 
failed  to  invade  England  before  Elizabethan  literature  was 
ripening.  His  arrival  on  the  English  stage  is  not  only  later 
than  that  of  his  two  great  contemporary  masters  of  Erench 
prose,  but  its  results  are,  contrary  to  what  his  boisterous 
expansiveness  might  suggest,  far  smaller  and  less  conspi- 
cuous. 


I 


J  60  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

It  is  difficult  to  place  Rabelais's  work  in  any  of  the  recognized 

literary  categories.     His  Lives,  heroic  deeds  and  sayings  of 

Garganttia  and  his  son  Pantagrnel,  was  begun  as  a  bur- 

\  lesque  continuation  of  a  mediaeval  romance  of  bombastic  and 

\impossible  heroism.     His  disorderly  style,  and  his  incurable 

habits  of  digression,  closely  link  him  with  the   crudities    of 

the  past.     Yet  in  truth  Rabelais  is  a  brilliant    child   of   the 

Renaissance,  a  man  of  vast  reading   and   close   observation, 

bent  on  proving  that  mediaeval  thought   and   custom   had 

outgrown  the  needs  of  society  and  that  new  ideals  had  arisen 

to   challenge   the   old   conceptions   of   life.      No    aspect    of 

human  existence  does  he  omit  to  place  beneath  his  satiric 

microscope.     Religion,  philosophy,  law,  politics,   education, 

are  all  scrutinized,  and  the  chaff  sifted  from  the  grain  with 

droll  animation.     Rabelais's  career  is  as  paradoxical  as   his 

theme  and  style.     vSuccessively  a  Franciscan  friar,  a  Benedic- 

/  tine  monk,  a  physician,  a  corrector  of  the  press,  a  canon,  and 

\  a  cure,  he  corresponded  in  Greek  with    Budaeus,    and   was 

\  suspected   of  heresy  by  the   obscurantist   clergy.      He  was 

\  favoured  alike  by  the  heterodox  Queen  of  Navarre  and  by 

\  the  orthodox  Cardinal  du  Bellay.     All  the  knowledge  of  his 

age  was  at  his  disposal;   yet  he  met  death  with  the  grim 

pleasantry  that  he  was  on  his  way  to  seek  '  the  great  Perhaps ' 

[le^grand  Peiit-etre). 

Rabelais  writes  with  such  extraordinary  exuberance,  he 
runs  riot  in  such  grotesque  exaggerations,  he  indulges  in  such 
obscene  buffoonery,  that  his  contribution  to  the  progress  of 
thought  stands  in  danger  of  neglect.  Sagacious  reflections  on 
education,  on  the  vice  of  ignorance  and  the  value  of  scientific 
knowledge,  on  the  true  sanctions  of  religion  and  politics,  are 
mingled  almost  inextricably  with  nonsensical  burlesque  and 
offensive  obscenity.  The  discursive  plot  brings  Rabelais's 
heroes  after  much  devious  travel  to  the  shrine  of  the  Divine 
Bottle,  where  the  priestess  of  the  oracle  greets  the  pilgrims 
with  the  exhilarating  injunction  '  Drink'.  The  priestess  delivers 
the  genuine  message  of  the  Renaissance :  '  Let  every  man 
possess  his  soul  with  cheerfulness,  sing,  laugh,  and  talk,  enjoy 
the  golden  sunshine  and  the  purple  wine,  and  live  according 


RABELAIS  IN  ENGLAND  i6i 

to  the  laws  of  the  world,  but  at  the  same  time  study  nature, 
learn  patiently  and  hopefully  all  that  is  to  be  known  of  her, 
and  never  lose  faith  in  a  Divine  Creator.'  This  is  Rabelais's 
philosophy,  however  it  be  disguised  in  his  wild  vocabulary ; 
a  philosophy  redolent  of  a  full-blooded  humanity ;  an  amalgam 
of  the  philosophy  of  Falstafif  and  that  of  Prospero.  The  see- 
ing eye  detects  earnestness  in  Rabelais's  aim.  There  is  more 
significance  than  appears  on  the  surface  in  the  paradoxical 
apophthegm  of  a  French  poet  and  critic  of  the  Renaissance : 
'  Rabelais  laid  the  eggs  which  Calvin  hatched.' 

Rabelais's  writings  were  originally  published  in  five  books, 
of  which  the  first  came  out  in  1532,  and  the  last  posthumously 
in  1562.  No  part  of  his  work  is  extant  in  any  English  trans- 
lation of  the  Elizabethan  era.  Gargantua  his  Prophecie  was, 
according  to  the  London  Stationers'  Registers  (ii.  607,  613), 
the  title  of  a  publication  of  the  year  1592,  but  no  copy  has 
been  met  with,  and  it  can  only  have  presented  a  fragment 
of  Rabelais's  achievement.  It  was  not  till  the  seventeenth 
century  w-as  well  advanced  that  Rabelais  came  forth  in  English 
dress.  The  eccentric  Scotchman,  Sir  Thomas  Urquhart,  w^hc 
had  much  in  common  with  Rabelais's  riotous  temper,  published 
his  admirable  version  in  i553."^n 

Like  Rabelais  himself,  Urquhart  has  some  title  to  be  regarded 
as  an  elder  brother  of  the  Elizabethans.  Rabelais's  name  was 
not  unfamiliar  to  the  Elizabethans,  but  they  showed  unac- 
countable reluctance  in  plainly  recognizing  the  relationship. 
References  to  him  in  Elizabethan  literature  are  sparse,  and 
suggest  that  he  was  barely  understood  by  Englishmen  of  the 
sixteenth  century.  Very  often  the  allusion  is  of  derogatory^ 
tone.  The  satirist  Joseph  Hall  writes  of  '  wicked  Rabelais's 
drunken  revellings '.  The  scholar  Gabriel  Harvey  complains 
of  his  lying  extravagance.  Rarely  is  the  sign  of  acquaintance 
with  the  French  humorist  appreciative.  Donne  mentions 
Rabelais's  burlesque  hero  Panurge  as  a  mighty  linguist  of 
humble  birth,  and  quotes  Rabelais's  tale  of  words  that  freeze 
in  winter  and  thaw  in  the  spring.  Sir  John  Harington, 
in  his  cloacinean  satire,  The  Metamorphosis  of  Ajax,  cites 
*the  reverent  Rabbles  qicein  honoris  causa  noviino\     Bacon 

LEE  M 


1 62  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

calls  him  '  the  great  jester  of  France '  and  a  '  master  of 
scoffing',  but  shows  no  full  knowledge.^  Enthusiasm  is 
wanting,  and  there  is  no  clear  sign  of  close  study, 

Shakespeare  probably  knew  as  much  of  Rabelais  as  the 
average  Elizabethan.  The  schoolmaster  Holofernes  in  Love's 
Labour  's  Lost  is  reminiscent  of  that  famous  doctor  of  divinity 
Tubal  Holofernes,  to  whose  care  the  boy  Gargantua  was  for 
a  season  confided.  When  Celia  is  about  to  tell  Rosalind  in 
As  Yo7c  Like  Lt  (ill.  ii.  238  seq.)  the  great  news  of  her  meet- 
ing with  Orlando  in  the  forest,  she  says :  '  You  must  borrow 
me  Gargantua's  mouth  first:  'tis  a  word  too  great  for  any 
mouth  of  this  age's  size.'  The  giant  Gargantua  was  the 
hero  of  a  mediaeval  story-book  before  Rabelais  re-created 
him.  Yet  Celia  seems  to  be  recalling  Rabelais's  ow^n  descrip- 
tion of  Gargantua's  mouth,  which  was  of  such  abnormal  size 
that  he  put  into  it  five  pilgrims  with  their  staves,  who 
accidentally  fell  into  a  salad  that  the  giant  was  eating.  Else- 
where Shakespeare  proves  that  he  well  knew  Rabelais's 
peculiar  vein  of  pleasantry.  In  Twelfth  Ah'g/it  (II.  iii. 
23  seq.)  the  simple  knight  Sir  Andrew  Aguecheek  recalls 
some  very  gracious  fooling  Avith  which  the  clown  of  the  play 
had  solaced  him  in  his  cups  in  the  small  hours  of  the  previous 
morning.  Sir  Andrew^  commends  his  companion's  wit  in 
speaking  unintelligible  nonsense  about  '  Pigrogromitus,  of  the 
Vapians  passing  the  equinoctial  of  Queubus ',  '  'Twas  very 
good,  i'  faith,'  says  the  simple  knight.  This  is  the  mystifying 
kind  of  jargon  which  Rabelais  loved.  The  words  are  not  to 
be  found  in  Rabelais's  text,  but  poor  rabbit-witted  Sir  Andrew 
is  hardly  likely  to  report  correctly  in  the  morning  a  difficult 
verbal  quip  which  he  had  heard  at  a  convivial  debauch  at 
a  late  hour  the  night  before.     Again  when  Edgar  (in  King 

'  Bacon  mentions  Rabelais  and  his  mock-library  of  St.  Victoire  at 
Paris  in  his  Essay  Of  Unity  in  Religion  (Essay  III):  '  There  is  a  master 
of  scoffing;  that  in  his  catalogue  of  books,  of  a  feigned  library,  sets  down 
this  title  of  a  book  :  The  Morris  Dance  of  Heretics'  In  the  Apophthegms 
Bacon  tells  the  apocryphal  story  of  Rabelais's  death:  'When  Rabelais 
lay  on  his  death-bed,  and  they  gave  him  the  extreme  unction,  a  familiar 
friend  of  his  came  to  him  afterwards,  and  asked  him,  How  he  did? 
Rabelais  answered  :  Even  going  my  journey,  they  have  greased  my  boots 
already.'     (Works^  ed.  Spedding  Ellis  and  Heath,  vii.  131.) 


RABELAIS  AND  NASHR  163 

Lear,  ill.  iii.  7),  in  his  disguise  of  madman,  mutters  how  '  Nero 
is  an  angler  in  the  lake  of  darkness  ',  Shakespeare  is  con- 
fusedly recalling  Rabelais's  original  and  uncorroborated  dis- 
covery that  Trajan  was  in  hell  as  an  angler  for  frogs,  while  Nero 
was  there  as  a  fiddler.  But  Shakespeare's  echoes  of  Rabelais 
are  hardly  more  distinct  than  those  of  Donne  and  Bacon. 

On  only  one  of  Shakespeare's  contemporaries,  Tom  Nashe, 
is  Rabelais's  influence  defined  with  absolute  clearness.  Thomas 
Nashe,  the  reckless  prose  satirist  who  tried  his  hand  at  drama 
and  romance  as  well  as  pamphleteering,  approaches  nearest 
of  any  Elizabethan  writer  to  the  Rabelaisian  type.  Nashe's 
prose  style  and  temperament  come  as  near  Rabelais  as  any- 
thing with  which  one  meets  in  Elizabethan  English.  But 
Nashe  wrote  nothing  on  so  large  a  scale  as  his  master,  for  no 
such  extended  outlook  on  the  world  lay  within  his  ambition 
or  power.  He  was  a  lampoonist,  who  filled  up  his  vacant 
hours  \\  ith  a  short  novel  of  adventure,  and  some  lyrics  and 
plays.  He  made  his  fame  chiefly  by  a  bitter  controversy  with 
the  Cambridge  scholar,  Gabriel  Harvey,  on  whom  he  turned 
all  his  artillery  of  unlicensed  abuse.  But  he  was  always  comical 
in  his  scurrility,  and  his  sense  of  the  ridiculous  was  strong  and 
lively.  One  of  his  denunciations  of  the  pedantic  Harvey  he 
dedicates  with  mock  gravity  to  the  barber  of  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge,  and  his  love  of  irresponsible  fooling  and  grotesque 
humour  led  him  at  the  extreme  end  of  his  life  into  an  hilarious 
panegyric  of  the  red  herring,  which  he  dedicated  to  a  friendly 
tobacconist, 

Nashe  formally  admits  his  discipleship  to  Rabelais,  The 
indebtedness  was  recognized  by  Nashe's  critics.  Gabriel  Harvey 
deplores  that  Nashe  cast  his  work  in  '  the  fantastical  mould  of 
Rabelais,  that  monstrous  wit ',  and  he  denounces  his  adversary 
as  a  Gargantuist  who  seeks  to  devour  his  enemies  in  salads. 
Nashe's  breezy  insolence  of  speech  has  affinity  with  another 
foreign  author,  the  Italian  Aretino,  who  defied  proprieties 
with  almost  as  great  a  gusto  as  Rabelais,  To  him  also  Nashe 
makes  obeisance.  But,  in  spite  of  tuition  gained  from  other 
quarters,  it  is  his  reading  in  Rabelais  which  accounts  for  most 
of  the  peculiar  eccentricities  of  Nashe's  prose  style,  for  most  of 

M   2 


J  64  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

his  contumacy  of  phrase.  Like  Rabelais,  he  depended  largely 
on  a  free  use  of  slang  for  his  best  burlesque  effects.  So  too 
his  habit  of  inventing  grandiose  words  is  a  gift  of  Rabelais. 
When  he  found  no  word  quite  fitted  to  his  purpose,  he 
followed  the  example  of  his  foreign  master  in  coining  one  out 
of  Greek,  Latin,  Spanish,  or  Italian.  '  No  speech  or  words,' 
he  wrote,  '  of  any  power  or  force  to  confute  or  persuade,  but 
must  be  swelling  and  boisterous,'  and  he  was  compelled  to 
seek  abroad,  he  explained,  his  boisterous  compound  words, 
in  order  to  compensate  for  the  great  defect  of  the  English 
tongue,  '  which  of  all  languages  most  swarmeth  with  the  single 
money  of  monosyllables.'  The  Elizabethan  poets  also  went,  as 
we  shall  see,  to  contemporary  France  for  aid  in  remedying  the 
monosyllabic  tendency  of  their  own  tongue,  but  Nashe  is  franker 
than  they  in  the  admission.  Like  Rabelais,  too,  Nashe  sought 
to  develop  emphasis  by  marshalling  columns  of  synonyms 
I  and  by  constant  reiteration  of  kindred  phrases.  His  writings 
■  have  at  times  something  of  the  fascination  of  Rabelais's  rough 
tongue,  but  as  a  rule  his  themes  are  of  too  local  and  topical 
an  interest  to  appeal  to  Rabelais's  world-wide  audience.  His 
bursts  of  joviality  are  not  linked  wath  Rabelais's  penetrating 
sagacity.  Nashe's  influence  on  language  and  literature  is  not 
profound.     He  was  hardly  great  enough  to  have  disciples. 

Nashe  plays  a  somewhat  isolated  part  on  the  Elizabethan 

stage,  but  Rabelais  did  not  pass  from  the  English  horizon 

with  Nashe's  death.     Like  Bacon,  Sir  Thomas  Browne  knew 

that  '  bundle  of  curiosities ',  Pantagruel's  burlesque  catalogue 

of  the  library  of  the  abbey  of  St.  Mctoire  at  Paris.     The 

French  humorist's  ebullient  note  was  more  often  detected  by 

contemporaries  in  the  Jacobean  hero,  Tom  Coryat,  the  bom- 

/  bastic  narrator  of  marvellous  pedestrian  feats  on  the  European 

continent.     A  friendly  versifier,  by  way  of  jest,  bestowed  on 

the  giant  walker,  who  was  known  as  the  Odcombian  from  his 

native  village  of  Odcombe  in  Somerset,  the  Rabelaisian  title 

of '  cet  Heroique  Geant  Odcombien  nomme  non  Pantagruel 

\  mais  Pantagrue ',  while  his  volume  of  Crudities  was  hailed  as 

:  worthy  of  a  place  in  the  library  of  the  abbey  of  St.  \'^ictoire 

between  '  Marmoretus  de  Baboinis  et  cingis '  and  '  Tirepetanas 


MONTAIGNE'S  CAREER  165 

dc  optimltate  triparum  '.  Cqryat's  Criidilics  was  indeed  re- 
christened  by  a  Rabelaisian  enthusiast  in  his  master's  dialect 
'  La  Caberotade  de  Coryat  oul'Apodemistichopezolie  de  I'Od- 
combien  vSomerseti '.  Hut  Coryat  did  less  than  Nashe  for  the 
Rabelaisian  tradition.  Eew  passages  of  his  farcical  rhodo-\ 
montade  approach  Nashe's  Rabelaisian  swagger.  Surly  Doctor  A 
Donne  in  some  commendatory  verses  cotu pares  Coryat 's  story 
of  travel  with  Rabelais's  report  of  his  hero's  wonderful  voyages. 
Rut  Coryat  cannot  sustain  the  blustering  vein,  and  usually 
ambles  on  tamer  levels.  Readers  who  recalled  the  whimsical 
voyages  which  Rabelais  assigned  to  Pantagruel  and  Panurge, 
likened  Coryat  to  the  French  comedian  from  the  grotesque- 
ness  of  his  pedestrian  adventures  rather  than  from  his  ordinary 
manner  of  reporting  them.  The  popular  association  of  Coryat 
with  Rabelais  shows  how  Rabelais's  English  reputation  grew 
after  Nashe  had  confirmed  its  footing.  Nashe's  Rabelaisian 
accents,  which  added  an  iridiscent  touch  to  Elizabethan  humour, 
helped  to  keep  alive  in  the  next  age  some  interest  in  the 
exploits  of  the  French  master  of  the  comic  spirit. 

VI 

Montaigne 

The  fourth  of  the  great  French  prose  masters  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  and  the  most  fascinating,  is  Michel  de  Mon- 
taigne (1533-1592).  A  Gascon,  cheerful  and  self-possessed, 
he  was  son  of  a  squire  or  small  nobleman  living  on  his  estate 
not  far  from  Bordeaux.  Brought  up  to  the  law,  he  practised 
as  a  youth  in  local  courts,  and  obtained  a  clerkship  in  the 
provincial  Parlement  of  Bordeaux.  At  the  age  of  thirty-eight 
his  father  died,  and  he  retired  from  his  profession  to  the 
castle  and  farm  of  his  patrimony.  He  thenceforth  lived  for 
the  most  part  the  life  of  a  country  gentleman,  though  he  left 
home  for  occasional  visits  to  Paris,  and  once  made  a  prolonged 
foreign  tour  through  Italy,  Germany,  and  Switzerland. 
Towards  the  end  of  his  career  he  acted,  too,  as  Mayor  of 
Bordeaux.  But  the  main  interests  of  his  later  years  were  his 
farms,  his  country  neighbours,  and,  above  all,  his  books.     His 


I 


1 66  FRENCH  INF^LUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

library,  which  filled  the  upper  chamber  of  an  octagonal  tower 
of  his  house,  was  his  earthly  paradise,  and  the  Latin  and 
Greek  classics  were  unfailing  fountains  of  delight.  He  set 
the  pleasures  of  reading  above  those  of  writing,  although, 
happily  for  posterity,  he  fell  into  the  habit  of  recording 
his  thought. 

As  in  the  case  of  so  many  contemporary  humanists,  his  first 
contribution    to   literature   was   a  translation.      He  tried  his 
hand  at  literary  composition  by  turning  from  the  Latin  into 
French  an  outspoken   speculation   on   natural   theology   by 
a  Spaniard,  Raymond  de  Sebonde.     It  was  in  1580,  when  he 
w^as  nearing  fifty  years,  that  he  published  the  greater  part  of 
the  work  which  gives  him  all  his  fame — the  first  two  volumes 
of  his  Essai's.     The  third  and  last  book  came  out  in  1588, 
the  year  alike  of  the  Spanish  Armada,  and  of  the  outbreak 
of  the  last  civil  war  of  the  century  between  Catholics  and 
Protestants  in  France.     He  died  at  Bordeaux  in  J^5g2,  in  his 
sixtieth  year.     Shakespeare  was  then  twenty-eigfil} ears  old, 
and  was  acquiring  his  earliest  repute.    Bacon  was  a  year  older. 
Montaigne  is  the  first  of  modern  essayists  in  point  alike  of 
time  and  quality.  Although  he  probably  owed  some  suggestion 
for  the  form  to  one  of  his  favourite  classical  books,  Plutarch's 
1  Morals,    the   essay   may    fairly    be    reckoned    Montaigne's 
'  invention.      Montaigne's    essays — 107    in   all — are   desultory 
\  personal  reflections  on  various  aspects  of  life  and  experience. 
They  are  put  together  Vithout  method.     In  theme  and  style 
)^^        they  are  incurably  rambling  and  digressive.     The  titles  give 
one  a  notion  of  their  scope.      vSome  taken  at  random  run : 
y  idleness,  the  punishment  of  cowardice,  pedantry,  friendship, 

names,  age,  books,  thumbs,  anger,  the  incommodity  of 
greatness,  vanity,  experience.     The  field  is  wide  as  life. 

Montaigne's  supreme  virtue  is  his  egotism.  He  is  the 
prince  of  egotists.  His  charm  lies  in  his  irrepressible  faculty 
for  gossip  about  himself.  '  I  speak  to  paper,'  he  says,  'just 
as  I  would  to  a  man  I  meet.  My  thoughts  slip  from  me  with 
as  little  care  as  if  they  were  quite  worthless.'  He  writes  just 
as  he  feels,  without  ceremony  and  without  concealment.  His 
want   of  premeditation    not   infrequently  leads  him  to  con- 


i<i 


MONTAIGNE'S  PHILOSOPHY  167 

tradict  himself.  But  the  contradictions  preserve  the  living 
semblance  of  reality.  Human  nature  is  a  bundle  of  incon- 
sistencies. '  All  the  contraries,'  says  Montaigne,  '  are  to  be 
found  in  me  in  one  corner  or  another.'  Montaigne's  language 
faithfully  reflects  unconstrained  conversation.  It  always 
maintains  an  easy  flow,  rarely  rising  and  rarely  sinking.  He 
ambles  along,  serenely  satisfied  with  himself,  and  he  infects 
others  with  his  self-satisfaction.  But  as  he  talks  volubly  from 
his  easy  chair,  he  does  not  suffer  his  reader  to  forget  that  he 
is  in  his  library  and  that  books  are  at  his  side.  The  classics 
were  his  intellectual  fare  from  boyhood.  He  was  deeply 
read  as  a  youth  in  Seneca,  Cicero,  and,  above  all,  in  Plato  and 
Plutarch.  Plutarch  as  a  biographer  and  as  a  philosopher 
chiefly  moulds  his  thought,  and  to  Plutarch's  French  apostle 
Amyot  he  extends  the  adoration  which  that  scholar  paid 
the  Greek  master.  The  enthusiastic  eulogy  which  he  passes 
on  Amyot,  Plutarch's  French  translator,  may  prepare 
us  for  the  knowledge  that  his  fluent  French  style  bears 
eloquent  testimony  to  Amyot's  influence.  Montaigne  betters 
Amyot's  instruction  in  facility  of  phrase  and  easy  wit,  but 
not  in  syntactical  regularity.  Yet  it  is  among  Amyot's  titles 
to  fame  that  he  was  Montaigne's  master  in  French  prose. 

Montaigne  is  the  latest  and  the  most  seductive  champion  of 
the  spirit  of  the  French  Renaissance.  To  greater  effect  than 
any  of  his  predecessors  he  adapted  the  flower  of  ancient 
wisdom  to  the  needs  and  notions  of  modern  times.  Montaigne 
in  effect  converts  into  current  coin  all  the  emancipating 
aspirations  of  the  Renaissance.  The  passion  for  extending 
the  limits  of  human  knowledge,  and  for  employing  man's 
capabilities  to  new  and  better  advantage  than  of  old,  the 
resolve  to  make  the  best  and  not  the  worst  of  life  upon  earth, 
the  ambition  to  cultivate  as  the  highest  good  the  idea  of 
beauty,  the  faith  in  man's  perfectibility  on  the  physical  as 
well  as  on  the  spiritual  side — these  fundamental  aspirations  of 
the  era  found  no  more  convincing  exponent  than  Montaigne. 
\'ery  characteristic  of  his  intellectual  temper  is  this  passage  :— 
'  There  is  nothing  in  us  either  purely  corporeal  or  purely 
spiritual.    'Tis  an  inhuman  wisdom  that  would  have  us  despise 


"7 


i68  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

and  hate  the  culture  of  the  body.     'Tis  not  a  soul,  'tis  not 
a  body,  we  are  training  up,  but  a  man ;  and  we  ought  not  to 
\  divide  him.     Of  all  the  infirmities  we  have,  the  most  savage  is 
to  despise  our  being.' 

In  his  attitude  to  religion,  Montaigne  was  a  sceptic  or 
agnostic.  '  Que  sais-je  ? '  ('  What  do  I  know  ? ')  was  his 
motto.^  Of  the  mysteries  of  heaven  he  thought  no  man  could 
know  anything,  and  he  was  content  to  be  ignorant.  He 
tries,  he  tells  us,  to  sit  through  life  on  the  stool  of  the 
Christianity  of  utter  ignorance.  He  had  no  claim  to  the 
stool  of  the  Christianity  of  perfect  knowledge.  The  first 
stool  is  his  natural  seat.  He  does  not  deny  that  the  received 
opinions  may  be  true.  He  simply  says  he  does  not  know 
w^hether  they  be  true  or  false.  The  mysteries  of  faith  are  not 
comprehensible  by  reason,  therefore  his  reason  leaves  them 
alone.  For  current  controversies  between  Huguenot  and 
Catholic  he  cared  nothing.  The  theological  points  at  issue 
seemed  to  him  superficial  or  trivial.  Shakespeare  sums  up 
[  Montaigne's  mental  temperament  when  he  calls  '  modest 
*  doubt  the  beacon  of  the  wise ',  and  Hamlet  speaks  in 
Montaigne's  accents  when  he  ejaculates : 

There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth,  Horatio, 
Than  are  dreamt  of  in -^ur  philosophy. 

It  is  a  practical,  worldly  wisdom  which  Montaigne  preaches. 
But  his  argument  is  always  coloured  by  gentlemanly  feeling, 
which  restrained  him  from  unseasonably  parading  his  opinions 
to  the  wounding  of  others'  susceptibilities.  He  calls  himself 
in  one  place  a  creature  of  convention  ;  the  common  customs 
and  usages  are  good  enough  for  him.  On  his  death-bed  he 
was  quite  ready  to  accept  the  priest's  offer  to  celebrate  Mass, 
not  because  he  had  belief  in  the  efficacy  of  the  ceremony,  but 
because  it  was  more  civil  to  accept  the  priest's  ministrations 
than  to  refuse  them. 

^  It  was  in  admiring  discipleship  to  Montaigne  that  Byron  wrote  {Don 
Juan,  c.  ix.  st.  17): 

'Que  sais-je?'    was  the  motto  of  Montaigne, 
As  also  of  the  first  academicians. 
That  all  is  dubious  which  man  may  attain, 
Was  one  of  their  most  favourite  positions. 


MONTAIGNE'S  ESSAYS  IN  ENGLAND        169 

But  however  easy-going  and  garrulous  was  Montaigne's 
habit  of  mind  and  speech,  he  was  never  a  mere  laughing  com- 
mentator on  human  affairs.  At  heart  he  was  an  earnest 
moralist.  He  seriously  recognizes  the  defects  of  human 
nature,  and  sagaciously  seeks  to  explain  them  without  excusing 
them.  There  is,  for  instance,  much  vicious  work,  he  points 
out,  in  politics;  base  tricks, bribes,  diplomatic  lying  infect  the 
political  sphere.  He  suggests  that  these  vices  may  be  like 
poisons,  which  are  employed  in  maintaining  the  health  of 
one's  body.  Though  they  are  bad  things  in  themselves,  they 
may  prove  useful  in  their  application.  Their  baneful  quality 
may  thus  be  deprived  of  its  effect.  But,  he  adds,  with  ironical) 
frankness,  he  has  no  personal  liking  for  poisons,  and  has  no; 
intention  of  mixing  in  the  business  in  which  they  are  needful/ 
solvents.  With  a  somewhat  cynical  smile  he  adds  : — '  Let  us  ■ 
resign  the  acting  of  this  political  part  in  life  to  hardy  citizens, 
who  sacrifice  honour  and  conscience,  as  others  of  old  sacrificed 
their  lives,  for  the  good  of  their  country.' 

Almost  every  subject  of  social  economy  he  illuminates  with 
similar  sprightly  wit,  in  which  irony  clothes  insight.  At  times 
the  sportive  note  predominates  and  obscures  the  serious  in- 
tention. His  remark  on  marriage  is  proverbial.  He  will  say 
no  more  about  the  merits  of  that  institution,  of  which  he  had 
personal  experience,  than  that  it  presents  itself  to  his  mind 
like  a  cage.  '  The  birds  without  despair  to  get  in— the  birds 
w'ithin  despair  of  getting  out.'  Montaigne  found  r esprit 
gaulois  not  always  easy  to  bridle. 

In  spite  of  the  tendency  to  mask  his  penetrating  observation 
with  badinage,  Montaigne's  fascinating  flow  of  wit  and  wisdom, 
of  gravity  and  seriousness,  succeeded  in  bringing  an  ethical 
view  of  social  duty  down  to  the  level  of  the  popular  and 
worldly  intelligence.  Montaigne's  work  also  inaugurated  a 
new  form  of  literature.  The  matter  and  manner  alike  exerted 
a  vast  influence  on  European  thought  and  taste. 

Montaigne's  Essays  were  soon  known  in  England.     The 
final  edition  was  published  in  Paris  after  his  death.     All  his 
manuscript  corrections  were  there  incorporated  by  Mile  de  , 
Gournay,  a  young  lady  of  great  cultivation,  who  brought  to  1 


I70  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

her  editorial  work  an  enthusiastic  worship.  The  volumes 
were  published  in  1595.  The  Parisian  edition  of  that  year 
gives  the  authorized  text  of  the  Essays.  It  is  significant  of  the 
closeness  with  which  French  literary  effort  was  watched  in 
Elizabethan  England  that  on  October  20  of  that  same  year, 
1595,  a  licence  was  issued  by  the  Stationers'  Company  in 
London  for  the  publication  of  an  English  translation.'  A 
second  printing  licence  was  dated  some  five  years  later.  No 
English  translation  earlier  than  1603  is  extant.  But  there  are 
indications  that  a  manuscript  translation  was  in  circulation 
some  years  before.  Montaigne's  name  indeed  became  a 
household  word  in  Elizabethan  England  very  soon  after  he 
had  become  the  idol  of  French  enlightenment. 

The  first  English  translator  of  Montaigne's  Essays  was  a 
well-known  figure  in  Elizabethan  society.  John  Florio  was 
son  of  a  Florentine  Protestarit  who  settled  in  England  while 
Edward  VI  reigned  and  before  his  son's  birth,  to  escape  perse- 
cution at  home.  John  became  well  known  in  Oxford  as  a 
teacher  of  Italian,  and  then  pursued  the  same  vocation  in 
London.  His  pupils  included  Shakespeare's  patron,  the  Earl 
of  Southampton,  and  at  a  later  date  James  I's  queen,  Anne  of 
Denmark.  He  mixed  freely  in  the  best  literary  circles,  and 
he  reckoned  Shakespeare  among  his  acquaintances.  An 
industrious  compiler  of  aids  to  English  students  of  Italian,  he 
published  useful  Italian-English dialogues,and  acopious  Italian- 
English  dictionary  which  he  called  '  A  World  of  \\'ords ',  a 
work  of  lexicographical  value.  His  most  important  literary 
effort  was  his  translation  of  Montaigne's  Essays.  That 
piece  of  work,  which  has  been  highly  praised  for  its  style, 
certainly  conveys  something  of  the  ease  and  flow  of 
the  French  original.  Yet  it  has  too  many  clumsy  and 
confused  clauses  to  rank  it  with  the  best  of  the  Tudor  trans- 
lations.   North's  Plutarch  is  a  superior  venture  in  perspicuity. 

'  Arber's  7'7anscfipi  of  the  Stationers'  Coinpany,  iii.  50 : — '  20  of 
October  [1595].  Edward  Aggas.  Entred  for  his  Copie  vnder  the  handes 
of  the  W'ardenes  The  Essais  of  Michaell  Lord  of  iMountane  .  .  .  vjd.' 
On  June  20,  1600,  another  stationer,  Edward  Blount,  'received  a  license 
to  print  '  ThG.  Essais  of  Michael  lord  of  Mountaigne  translated  into 
English  by  John  Florio'  (Arber,  iii.  162). 


FRANCIS  BACON  AND  MONTAIGNE  171 

The  later  English  translation  of  Montaigne  by  Charles  Cotton, 
the  friend  of  Izaak  Walton,  has  some  claim  to  rank  above 
Florio's,  The  archaic  flavour  which  sometimes  attaches  to 
Montaigne's  own  manner  of  speech  seems  unduly  accentuated 
by  Florio.  Yet  his  success  in  familiarizing  vShakespeare's 
England  with  the  wealth  of  Montaigne's  genius  was  in  no 
way  prejudiced  by  defects  in  his  literary  accomplishments. 

In  England  the  finest  fruit  of  Montaigne's  effort  is  Bacon's 
Essays.  Bacon's  genius  was  too  original  to  make  him  a 
servile  imitator.  The  brevity  of  Bacon's  essays  distinguishes 
them  at  a  first  glance  from  the  majority  of  Montaigne's, 
although  a  few  of  Montaigne's  essays  are  of  Bacon's  modest 
dimensions.  There  is  no  garrulity  about  Bacon,  no  genial 
exchange  of  confidence  with  his  readers,  no  digressions.  He 
rivets  his  reader's  attention  by  the  incisiveness  of  his  utter- 
ance and  by  the  aptness  of  his  illustration.  He  is  impatient 
of  levity  and  sternly  avoids  it.  Yet  Bacon  follows  Montaigne 
in  the  general  design  of  bringing  home  to  the  untrained 
mind  the  leading  truths  of  experience.  The  word  '  Essays '  in 
the  sense  of  informal  comments  on  things  at  large,  was  first 
introduced  by  Bacon  into  the  English  language,  and  came 
direct  from  Montaigne.  Bacon's  ambition  to  bring  wisdom 
informally  and  occasionally  '  home  to  men's  business  and 
bosoms '  was  the  inspiration  of  Montaigne. 

Bacon  admits  that  Montaigne  taught  him  to  be  an 
essayist.  In  the  opening  essay,  Of  Truth,  he  enforces  his 
denunciation  of  the  vice  of  lying  with  a  long  quotation  from 
Montaigne's  essay  on  '  giving  the  lie '.  With  some  quaintness 
Bacon  notes  that  Montaigne  writes  on  the  topic  'prettily'. 
Montaigne's  topics  are  often  borrowed  by  Bacon,  and  Bacon's 
style,  flowing  for  the  most  part,  but  sometimes  abrupt  in  its  i 
turns,  catches  frequently  a  note  of  Montaigne's  homely 
naturalness. 

Literary  historians  appear  to  have  overlooked  a  curious 
personal  link  between  Bacon  and  the  great  French  essayist, 
which  may  well  have  drawn  the  Englishman  into  the  circle 
of  Montaigne's  disciples.  Bacon  had  opportunities  in  his  own 
household  of  learning   much   of  Montaigne.     Bacon's  elder 


172  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

brother,  Anthony,  with  whom  he  cherished  life-long  ties  of 
close  affection,  spent  twelve  of  his  forty-three  years  of  life  in 
the  south  of  France.  Much  of  his  time  between  1583  and 
1 59 1  was  passed  at  Bordeaux,  where  he  made  the  acquaintance 
of  iMontaigne  and  of  all  enlightened  Huguenots  and  Catholics 
of  the  province.  With  Montaigne  he  formed  a  close  intimacy 
and  maintained  a  correspondence,  Anthony  Bacon  returned 
to  England  after  his  long  absence  in  the  early  spring  of  1592. 
On  September  13  of  that  year  Montaigne  unexpectedly  died. 
A  letter  from  his  English  friend  was  the  last  piece  of  writing 
which  reached  the  great  Frenchman's  hand  or  caught  his 
eye.  Within  a  month  the  sad  news  was  sent  to  Anthony 
by  Montaigne's  neighbour  and  close  friend,  Pierre  de 
Brach. 

-^'  Brach,  a  poetic  aspirant  of  the  school  of  Ronsard  and  the 
warm  admirer  of  his  fellow-Gascon  Du  Bartas  as  well  as  of 
Montaigne,  enjoyed  some  reputation  as  a  poet  and  sonneteer. 
A  tolerant  Catholic  lawyer  and  squire,  who  patriotically  de- 
plored the  civil  wars  of  his  country,  he  is  chiefly  remembered 
as  the  loyal  friend  and  eulogist  of  three  men  greater  than 

I  himself— of  Montaigne,  of  Du  Bartas,  and  of  a  foreigner, 
Justus  Lipsius,  the  Leyden  professor  of  classical  scholarship. 
"Anthony  became  an  intimate  of  Brach's  social  circle  at 
Bordeaux,  and  a  close  personal  friend  of  the  well-to-do  poet. 
Classical  repute  already  attaches  to  Brach's  letter  to  Justus 
Lipsius,  giving  the  authoritative  account  of  Montaigne's 
death.  The  communication  to  Lipsius  has  often  been  printed  ; 
it  was  written  on  February  4,  1593.  Yet  it  was  four  months 
earlier  that  Brach  sent  the  melancholy  tidings  to  Anthony 
Bacon  in  a  letter  which  still  remains  in  manuscript  among 
Anthony  Bacon's  papers  at  Lambeth. 

The  communication  is  worthy  of  more  attention  than  it  has 
yet  received.  After  expressing  regret  for  Anthony's  continued 
ill-health  and  reminding  him  that,  in  his  anxiety  to  breathe 
again  his  native  air,  he  had  neglected  warnings  against  the 
dangers  of  the  sea,  Brach  laments  the  strife  which  infects  France 
and  tells  of  his  retirement  to  his  estate  near  Bordeaux,  there  to 
pen  elegies  on  his  recently  deceased  wife.     The  Frenchman 


ANTHONY  BACON  AND  MONTAIGNE         173 

continues,  for  the  benefit  of  his  English  correspondent,  with 
these  memorable  words : 

But  I  am  so  touched  to  the  quick  by  a  new  grief,  by  the 
news  of  the  death  of  M.  de  Montaigne,  that  I  am  not  myself. 
I  have  lost  the  best  of  my  friends  ;  France  the  completest  and 
liveliest  wit  that  she  ever  had ;  all  the  world  the  true  patron 
and  mirror  of  pure  philosophy,  so  that  the  world  has  borne 
tribute  to  the  shock  of  his  death  no  less  than  to  the  wa-itings 
of  his  life.  According-  to  what  I  have  heard,  this  last  great 
event  has  little  in  it  to  discredit  his  lofty  writing-.  The  last 
epistolary  missive  that  he  received  was  yours  which  I  sent 
him.  He  did  not  answer,  because  he  had  to  answer  Death 
who  has  seized  only  on  what  was  mortal  in  him.  The  rest 
and  the  better  part — which  is  his  name  and  memory — will 
only  die  with  Death  itself.^ 

^  The  original  letter  is  among  Anthony  Bacon's  manuscripts  at  Lambeth. 
Dr.  Birch  prints  a  summary  in  his  Memohs  of  the  Reign  of  Queen 
Elicabetli,  1754  (i.  88).  The  following  is  Dr.  Birch's  full  transcript,  now 
in  the  British  Museum  (Additional  MSS.  41 10,  f.  123) : — 

Monsr.  De  Brach  to  Mr.  Bacon:  '  Monsr. ;  II  me  souvenoit  tant  de 
I'estat  ou  vous  estiez  quand  vostre  despart  vous  desroba  de  nous, 
qu'aussitost  que  je  vy  le  sieur,  qui  me  rendist  la  vostre  lettre  je  luy 
demanday  comment  il  vous  alloit,  sans  que  je  prins  le  loisir  de  I'apprendre 
par  vous  mesme.  Ainsi  s'enquiert-on,  suivent  de  sgavoir  &  de  voir,  ce  que 
le  plus  souvent  nous  trouverons  centre  nostre  desirs  comme  contre  mon 
desir  &  avec  grande  desplaisir  je  sgeu  la  continuation  de  vostre  mauvais 
portement.  II  me  souvient  bien,  que  je  me  detifiois  qu'en  une  saison  si 
facheuse  vous  peussiez  supporter  le  travail  de  la  mer,  qui  vous  devoit 
porter.  Mais  vous  estiez  si  affame  de  vostre  air  natural,  que  ce  desin 
vous  faisoit  mespriser  tout  danger.  Vous  aviez  raison  de  vouloir 
s'dloigner  le  nostre  pour  la  mauvaise  qualite,  qu'il  a  prins  par  les  eva- 
parations  de  nos  troubles,  qui  I'ont  tellement  inlccte,  qu'il  n'a  nous  laisse 
rien  de  sain,  «S:  nous  enmalade  autant  de  I'esprit  que  du  corps. 
Quant  k  moy,  monsieur,  je  me  suis  retire  en  ce  lieu,  ayant  tout  k  faict 
quitte  Bourdeaux,  pour  ce  que  Bourdeaux  ne  me  pouvoit  rendre  ce  que 
j'y  ay  perdu,  &  je  continue  en  ma  solitude  de  rendre  ce  que  je  dois  a  la 
memoire  de  ma  perte.  J'ay  icy  dresse  un  estude  aussi  plaisant  k  mon 
desplaisir  que  nouveau  en  ses  peintures  &  devises,  qui  ne  sortent  point 
de  mon  subject.  Je  les  vous  descriray,  si  j'avois  autant  de  liberie 
d'esprit  que  de  volonte.  Mais  je  suis  touche  si  au  vif  d'un  nouvel 
ennuy  par  la  nouvelle  de  la  mort  de  Monsr.  de  Montaigne,  que  je  ne 
suis  point  a  moy.  J'y  ay  perdu  le  meilleur  de  mes  amis;  la  France  le 
plus  entier  &  le  plus  vif  esprit,  qu'elle  eut  onques,  tout  le  monde  le  vray 
patron  &  mirroir  de  la  pure  philosophie,  qu'il  a  tesmoignee  aux  coups  de 
sa  mort  comme  aux  escrits  de  sa  vie  ;  &  k  ce  que  j'ay  entendu  ce  grand 
effect  dernier  n'a  peu  en  luy  faire  dementir  ces  hautes  parolles.  La 
derniere  lettre  missive,  qu'il  recent,  fut  la  vostre,  que  je  luy  envoiay, 
a  laquelle  il  n'a  respondu,  pourcequ'il  avoit  k  respondre  k  la  Mort,  qui 
a  emporte  sur  luy  ce  qui  seulement  estoit  de  son  gibier  ;  mais  le  reste 
&  la  meilleure  part,  qui  est  son  nom  &  sa  memoire,  ne  mourra  qu'avec 


174  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

It  is  of  interest  to  learn  that,  as  far  as  extant  information 
goes,  it  was  to  an  Englishman  that  the  first  posthumous 
tribute  to  Montaigne's  eminence  was  addressed  either  inside 
or  outside  France.  It  is  not,  too,  without  significance  that 
when  in  1597  Francis  Bacon  published  the  first  edition  of 
his  EssaySy  he  dedicated  them  to  Anthony,  his  '  dear  brother 
loving  and  beloved  ',  who  was  Montaigne's  friend  and  an  early 
sharer  of  the  grief  evoked  at  Bordeaux  by  his  death. 

Bacon,  the  essayist,  in  his  dependence  on  Montaigne,  did 
not  long  stand  alone.  He  initiated  the  vogue  of  the 
English  essay  on  Montaigne's  pattern,  and  he  soon  had  a 
large  following.  Ben  Johnson  declares,  in  a  notable  passage 
in  his  comedy  of  Volpone^  that  '  all  our  English  writers  .  .  . 
will  deign  to  steal  .  .  .  from  Montaigne  ',^  and  in  his  miscellany 
of  criticism  which  he  called  Timber  he  describes  Montaigne 
as  master  of  all  essayists,  but  rather  crabbedly  complained 
that  men  who,  like  Montaigne,  write  discursively  tend  to  self- 
contradiction.  At  any  rate,  there  quickly  arose  in  England 
a  school  of  essayists  under  Montaigne's  banner.  The 
second  writer  either  to  use  the  term  or  to  practise  the  genre 
was  Sir  William  Cornwallis,  who  brought  out  a  first  volume 
called  Essays  in  1600.  Sir  William  was  a  country  gentle- 
man and  a  member  of  parliament,  following  a  career  not 
wholly  unlike  that  of  Montaigne.  For  thirty  years  he  was  a 
prolific  essayist.  With  a  frankness  exceeding  Bacon's  acknow- 
ledgement, he  admits  familiarity  with  Montaigne's  work ; 
but  he  only  knew  it  in  the  English  version.  He  is  liberal 
in  the  recognition  of  his  debt,  and  praises  the  pregnant  force 
of  Montaigne's  style  and  thought,  albeit  his  familiarit)^  with  it 
did  not  extend  beyond  the  English  translation.  '  For  profitable 
recreation,  that  noble  French  knight,  the  Lord  de  Montaigne, 
is  most  excellent,  whom  though  I   have  not  been  so  much 

la  mort  de  ce  tout,  &  demeurera  ferme  comme  sera  en  moy  la  volonte  de 
demeurer  tousjours,  Monsr.,  Vostre  tres  humble  &  aflfectionne  serviteur, 
De  brach. 
'  De  la  Motte  Montassan  pres  Bordeaux  ce  10  Octob.  1592.' 
*  Act  III,  Sc.  ii.  Here  Jonson  puts  Montaigne  on  a  level  with  Guarini's 
Pastor  Fido,  as  a  ready  object  of  pillage  for  English  authors.  Jonson's 
comedy,  which  was  first  produced  in  1605,  was  published  in  1607. 


CORNWALLIS'S  ESSAYS  J75 

beholding-  to  the  French  as  to  see  in  his  original,  yet  divers 
of  his  pieces  I  have  seen  translated :  they  that  understand 
both  languages  say  very  well  done,  and  I  am  able  to  say  (if 
you  will  take  the  word  of  ignorance),  translated  into  a  style, 
admitting  as  few  idle  words  as  our  language  will  endure  : 
it  is  well  fitted  in  this  new  garment,  and  Montaigne  speaks 
now  good  English.'  The  Elizabethan  essayist  often  literally 
copies  Montaigne's  language  and  sentiment  with  scant  cere- 
mony. But  he  amply  atones  for  his  servility  by  the  enlightened 
tribute  which  he  pays  the  French  master.  Montaigne,  con- 
tinues Cornwallis — 

speaks  nobly,  honestly  and  wisely,  with  little  method,  but 
with  much  judgement ;  learned  he  was,  and  often  shows  it, 
but  with  such  a  happiness,  as  his  own  following  is  not  dis- 
graced by  his  own  reading  ;  he  speaks  freely,  and  yet  wisely ; 
censures  and  determines  many  things  judicially,  and  yet 
forceth  you  not  to  attention  with  a  hem,  and  a  spitting 
exordium  ;  in  a  word  he  hath  made  moral  philosophy  speak 
courageously,  and  instead  of  her  gown  given  her  an  armour  ; 
'V  he  hath  put  pedantical  scholarism  out  of  countenance,  and 
made  manifest  that  learning  mingled  with  nobility  shines  most 
clearly.^ 

These   appreciative   sentences   were   published,   it    should 
be    borne    in    mind,    three    years    before    the    first    extant 
issue  of  Florio's  translation  of  Montaigne's  Essays.     Corn- 
^    wallis    clearly    read    Florio's    work     in    manuscript.       His 
testimony   confirms   the   evidence   which   is   offered   by   the 
Stationers'  Registers  that  as  soon  as  the  authentic  edition  of 
the  Essays  came  from  the  press  in  Paris,  English  curiosity 
was  active.     How  far-reaching  in  England  was  Montaigne's 
influence   as   the   creator  of  a  new   literary   mode ,  will   be  * 
obvious  to  any  one  who  recalls  that  the  essays  of  Cowley,  J 
Addison,  and  Charles  Lamb  all  own  kinship  with  the  F^rench  j 
endeavour. 

The  final  proof  of  Montaigne's   influence   in  Elizabethan 
England  is  to  be  deduced,  as  in  the  case  of  Amyot,  from 

'  Cornwallis's  Essayes,  No.  12,  Of  Censuring. 


> 


176  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

Shakespeare,    Some  critics  have  strained  to  breaking-point 
the  iih'al  theory  of  hterary  parallels,  by  adducing  numerous 
passages    from    Shakespeare    and    Montaigne    in    which    the 
general    identity    of    sentiment    is    not     to    be    questioned. 
Hut  many  of  these  parallels  bear  witness  to  an  intellectual 
sympathy   or  to  an  affinity  between  the  two  writers  which 
may  well  have  come  independently  from  the  temper  of  the 
times— from  the  all-pervading  spirit  of  the  Renaissance,  and  no 
debt  on  Shakespeare's  part  to  Montaigne  can  be  often  safely 
pleaded.     When  Shakespeare  calls  '  modest  doubt  the  beacon 
of  the  wise ',  or  when  he  pleads  for  the  free  use  of  '  godlike 
reason ',  or  when  he  expatiates  on  '  what  a  piece  of  work  is 
man  ',  he  is  giving  voice  to  sentiments  which  Montaigne,  like 
all  the  great  prophets  of  the  epoch,  fully  shared  and  effectively 
{'expressed.     But  it  is  hazardous  to  conclude  from  such  general 
resemblances   that   Shakespeare   was    Montaigne's    personal 
disciple.     The  language  as  well  as  the  thought  must  come 
within   measure   of  identity   before   our   road   is   absolutely 
clear.     There  are   instances   in  which   a  prima  facie   case 
for  borrowing  may  possibly  be  made  out,  but  where  it  is 
unsafe  to  dogmatize.^      Very  characteristic  of  Montaigne  is 
the  observation,  '  feasts,  banquets,  revels,  dancings,  masks  and 
tourneys  rejoice  them  that  but   seldom  see  them,  and  that 
have  much  desired  to  see  them :  the  taste  of  which  becomes 
cloysome  and  unpleasing  to  those  that  daily  see,  and  ordinarily 
have  them.'     Shakespeare  twice  makes  the  like  reflection  in 
terms  that  seem  to  reflect  Montaigne's  words.     No  monopoly 
may  be  claimed  for  the  opinion  that  feasts  and  holidays  to 
be  enjoyed  must  be  rare.     Yet  the  circumstance  that  Shake- 
speare more  than  once  lays  a  curious  emphasis  on  the  fact  in 
something   like   Montaigne's   language   is  consistent   with   a 
reminiscence  of  his  reading.    In  the  First  Part  of  Henry  IV, 
I,  ii.  226-8,  says  Prince  Hal : 

If  all  the  year  were  playing  holidays. 

To  sport  would  be  as  tedious  as  to  work ; 

But  when  they  seldom  come,  they  wished  for  come. 

'  Many  passages  of  this  kind  are  collected  by  Mr,  J.  M,  Robertson  in 
his  interesting  volume  Montaigne  cmd  Shakspere  (new  ed.,  1909). 


SHAKESPEARE  AND  MONTAIGNE  177 

So  again  in  the  Sojinc/s  (lii.  ^-"j)  .Shakespeare  talks  of  the 
danger  of  blunting  the  fine  point  of  '  seldom  pleasure  ' : 

Therefore  are  feasts  so  solemn  and  so  rare, 
Since,  seldom  coming,  in  the  long  year  set, 
Like  stones  of  worth  they  thinly  placed  are. 

Another  parallel  between  Montaigne  and  Shakespeare  may 
be  set  in  the  same  category.  Cowards,  says  Julius  Caesar 
(II.  ii.  32-7): 

Cowards  die  many  times  before  their  deaths : 

The  valiant  never  taste  of  death  but  once. 

Of  all  the  wonders  that  I  yet  have  heard, 

It  seems  to  me  most  strange  that  men  should  fear ; 

Seeing  that  death,  a  necessary  end, 

Will  come  when  it  will  come, 

wSo  Montaigne  (i.  19)  : 

Since  we  are  threatened  by  so  many  kinds  of  death,  there 
is  no  more  inconvenience  to  fear  them  all  than  to  endure  one : 
what  matter  when  it  cometh,  since  it  is  unavoidable.  ^ 

It  is  possible  that  such  parallels  may  mean  nothing  more 
than  the  accidental  community  of  independent  thought.  Yet 
analogous  passages  are  numerous  enough  to  give,  when 
they  are  examined  collectively,  a  prima  facie  justification  to 
the  theory  of  direct  indebtedness. 

The   inference  is  corroborated  by  the  presence  of  a  few 
passages  in   Shakespeare  which  literally   echo    Montaigne's 
deliverance,  and  leave  no  doubt  of  the  Enghsh  dramatist's  im- 
mediate dependence.   In  The  Tempest  (\\.  i,  i54seq,),  Gonzalo, 
the  honest  old  counsellor  of  Naples,  indulges  his  fancy  after  the  / 
shipwreck,  and  sketches  the  mode  in  which  he  would  govern  ; 
the  desert  island,  if  the  plantation  were  left  in  his  hands.     He  '\ 
would  establish  a  reign  of  nature,  a  socialistic  community,  in  I 
which  all  things  should  obey  nature,  all  things  should  be  in  '> 
common  : 

r  the  commonwealth  I  would  b)'  contraries 
Execute  all  things ;    for  no  kind  of  traffic 
Would  I  admit ;    no  name  of  magistrate  ; 
Letters  should  not  be  known ;  riches,  poverty. 
And  use  of  service,  none;    contract,  succession, 
Bourn,  bound  of  land,  tilth,  vineyard,  none ; 


> 


178  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN  PROSE 

No  use  of  metal,  corn,  or  wine  or  oil, 

No  occupation ;—  all  men  idle,  all. 

And  women  too,  but  innocent  and  pure  ; 

No  sovereig-nty 

All  things  in  common  nature  should  produce 
Without  sweat  or  endeavour  :    treason,  felony. 
Sword,  pike,  knife,  gun,  or  need  of  any  engine. 
Would  I  not  have;    but  nature  should  bring  forth, 
Of  its  own  kind,  all  foison,  all  abundance. 
To  feed  my  innocent  people. 

Montaigne,  in  a  rambling  essay  on  cannibals  (bk.  ii. 
chap.  30),  had  already  described  an  island  where  the  inhabi- 
tants, unsophisticated  by  civilization,  lived  according  to  nature. 
Montaigne's  cannibals  are  not  eaters  of  human  flesh,  but 
savages  who  obey  instinctive  feeling  and  are  innocent  alike 
of  the  vices  or  the  virtues  of  civilization,  Montaigne  describes 
this  Utopian  people  thus  (I  quote  Florio's  version) : 

It  is  a  nation  that  hath  no  kind  of  traiEc,  no  knowledge  of 
letters,  no  intelligence  of  numbers,  no  name  of  magistrate  nor 
of  politic  superiority ;  no  use  of  service,  of  riches  or  of 
poverty ;  no  contracts,  no  successions,  no  partitions  of 
property ;  no  occupation,  but  idle ;  no  respect  of  kindred, 
but  common  ;  no  apparel,  but  natural ;  no  manuring  of  lands, 
no  use  of  wine,  corn,  and  metal.  The  very  words  that  import 
lying,  falsehood,  treason,  dissimulations,  covetousness,  envy, 
detraction,  and  pardon  were  never  heard  amongst  them. 

Shakespeare  transfers  much  of  Montaigne's  vocabulary  and 
assimilates  the  abrupt  turn  of  the  language.  There  is  no 
room  for  doubt  that  Gonzalo  is  citing  Florio  at  first  hand. 

Thus  we  reach  the  conclusion  that  French  prose  exerted 
no  small  influence  on  both  the  form  and  substance  of 
Elizabethan  literature.  Elizabethans  knew  least  of  Rabelais, 
the  earliest  master  in  prose  of  the  French  Renaissance.  Yet 
I  to  him  the  pamphleteers  of  Shakespeare's  day  owed  some 
1  suggestions  for  their  swaggering  satire.  From  Calvin  the 
Elizabethans  drew  precision  in  expounding  theological  doc- 
trine, and  the  habit  of  discussing  the  dark  mysteries  of  the 
faith  in  the  domestic  language.  From  Amyot  came  the 
briskly  balanced   period,  and  the  enthusiasm  for  biographic 


GENERAL  CONCLUSIONS  179 

detail.  From  Montaigne  came  pointed  fluency  and  a  cheerful 
habit  of  reflecting  detachedly  on  life.  The  matter  and  manner 
of  French  prose  helped  to  mould  Elizabethan  thought  and 
expression.  There  were  other  threads  in  the  skein— classical, 
Italian,  and  Spanish  threads — but  many  of  these  were  dyed 
in  French  colours  before  they  were  put  to  l^^nglish  uses. 
France,  whether  as  principal  or  agent,  was  the  predominant 
element  in  the  serious  branches  of  the  literary  art.  If 
Elizabethan  fiction  sought  sustenance  further  afield  in  Italy 
or  Spain,  France  taught  Elizabethan  prose  most  of  that  bold 
vivacity  and  freedom  which  Elizabethans  acknowledged  to 
be  a  distinguishing  trait  of  the  French  language.  Familiarity^ 
with  the  themes  of  French  prose — with  the  theology  of 
Calvin,  the  ribald  sagacity  of  Rabelais,  the  classical  idealism 
of  Amyot,  the  worldly  ethics  of  Montaigne — signally  helped 
to  draw  Elizabethan  minds  into  the  main  currents  of  European 
thought  and  culture. 


N  2 


BOOK    IV 

FRENCH    INFLUENCE    IN   THE 
ELIZABETHAN    LYRIC 


The  Coming  of  Ronsard 

The  general  course  that  English  poetry  followed  in  the 
sixteenth  century  has  been  described  already.  The  main 
historical  or  chronological  fact  is  that  there  was  no  flow  of  true 
poetry  through  the  first  eighty  years  of  the  century.  French 
and  Italian  influence  wrought  together  on  the  wellnigh  iso- 
lated ebullition  of  Wyatt  and  Surrey  in  the  early  years  with 
evanescent  effect.  The  lyrists  of  Henry  VIIFs  court  created 
no  school  of  English  poetry.  The  period  of  helpless  dog- 
gerel which  followed  gave  no  hint  of  the  future. 

Between  the  death  of  Surrey  in  1547  and  the  poetic  birth 
of  Spenser  in  1579,  only  one  poetic  endeavour  deserves 
attention  from  the  artistic  point  of  view— Sackyille's  '  In- 
duction Llo  The  Jlirror-  of  Magistrates.  In  that  poetic 
allegory,  published  in  1563,  the  poet,  guided  by  the  per-^ 
sonification  of  sorrow,  visits,  after  the  manner  of  \'ergil  or 
Dante,  the  abodes  of  the  great  dead.  Sackville's  faculty  is 
impressive,  but  it  is  doubtful  if  his  small  and  isolated  output 
does  more  than  attest  a  craving  for  a  heightened  standard  of 
poetic  art.  It  is  a  ray  of  light  which  failed  to  disperse  the 
prevailing  gloom.^ 

1  Although  Sackville's  verse  betrays  little  sign  of  French  influence,  the 
poet,  like  most  cultured  Englishmen  of  his  day,  was  well  acquainted  with 
France  and  Frenchmen.  Just  before  the  publication  of  his  '  Induction  '  he 
was  making  a  tour  of  the  continent,  and  soon  after  his  return  he  was 
twice  in  Paris  on  diplomatic  business.  In  156S  he  was  much  in  the 
society  of  Queen  Catherine  de'  Medici,  and  sought  to  overcome  her 
objections  to  the  proposal  that  her  son  the  Due  d'Anjou  should  marry 
Queen  Elizabeth.  Early  in  1572  he  revisited  France  to  convey  the  con- 
gratulations of  the  English  court  to  the  French  king,  Charles  IX,  on  his 
marriage,  and  he  performed  the  duty  with  ceremonial  magnificence,  giving 
and  receiving  lavish  entertainments  in  Paris  (Stow's  Chronicle,  p.  668). 
He  wrote  to  Queen  Elizabeth  of  the  Italian  comedies  which^  he  wit- 
nessed at  the  French  court  (Baschet,  Les  Comcdiens  Italieus  a  la  Coiir 
de  France,  1S82,  pp.  15,  16).  Four  years  later  Sackville  hospitably  re- 
ceived the  Huguenot  envoy,  Cardinal  Chatillon,  at  his  palace  at  Sheen. 


i84  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

Spenser's  Shepheards  Calender^,  published  in  1579,  must 
for  aesthetic  purposes  be  viewed  as  the  starting-point  of  the 
Elizabethan  tide.     Spenser  lived  on  till  1 599,  steadily  develop- 
ing in  poetic  genius  for  the  best  part  of  twenty  years.     With 
Spenser's  early  work  was  associated  in  point  of  time  that  of 
Sir  Philip  Sidney  and  Thomas  Watson.      The  trio,  in  the 
order  in  which  their  names  are  mentioned,  presents  a  descend- 
ing  scale    of  merit.      Sidney   was    no   match    for   Spenser. 
Watson    was    very    inferior    in    power    to    Sidney,   but    he 
deserves   to  be  greeted  as  a  modest  herald  of  the  coming 
summer,  for  he  laboured  in  new  lyric  fields   with    Sidney's 
industry,  if  with  little  of  his  poetic  feeling.      He  survived 
Sidney    by   some    six   years,  dying   in    1592.     It  was   not, 
however,  until    these   two   pioneer-companions   of    Spenser 
had  left  the  scene  that  the  lyric  inspiration  gained  its  full 
fervour  or  strength  in  Elizabethan  England.     The  highest  lyric 
triumphs  are  identified  with  such  names  as  Lyly  and  Daniel, 
Lodge  and  Drayton,  and>.high  above  the  rest  with  Shake- 
speare ;  all  flourished  in  the  last  decade  of  the  century. 

In  that  darkest  age  of  poetic  effort  which  followed  the  burial 
of  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  Tudor  England  vainly  turned  anew 
for  tuition  to  Clement  Marot,  the  master  of  French  poetry  in 
the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Wyatt,  who  had  adapted 
Marot's  characteristic  rondeaus,  had  acknowledged  Marot's 
sway.  The  crew  of  doggerel  poetasters,  who  ambled  across 
the  English  stage  between  the  exit  of  Wyatt  and  the  entry  of 
Spenser— men  like  Turberville  and  Gascoigne— are  stated  by 
:  a  contemporary  critic  to  have  '  come  near  unto  Marot,  whom 
they  did  imitate'.  Fresh  scraps  of  Marot's  verse  were  trans- 
lated into  halting  English.  Gascoigne  in  the  preliminary 
verses  before  his  'Posies'  (1575)  excuses  himself  for  occa- 
sional impropriety  by  the  example  of  Marot's  '  Alyx ',  an 
epitaph  of  brutal  grossness  on  an  unchaste  woman. ^     The 

^  Marot,  CEuvi'cs,  ii.  219.     Gascoigne's  lines  run  : 
Read  Faustoes  filthy  tale,  in  Ariosioes  ryme, 
And  let  not  Marots  Alyx  pass,  without  impeach  of  crime. 
These  things  considered  well,  I  trust  they  will  excuse 
This  muse  of  mine,  although  she  seem  such  toys  sometimes 
to  use. 


MAROT  DETHRONED  IN  ERANCE  185 

Marotic  tradition  was  still  flickering-  in  England  in  the  anims 
mirabUis  1579.     Spenser  paid  tribute  to  Marot's  vogue  in 
his  earliest  poetic  endeavours.     Of  his  Shepheards  Calender^ 
the  title  translates  the  name  of  a  popular  Erench    tract  Le  j 
Kalendricr  des  Bergiep-s,  and  two  sections  of  the  English  j  ^ 
poem  paraphrase  Marot's  old-fashioned  eclogues.     That  in-.i 
teres  ting  act  of  homage  was  a  belated  courtesy  and  it  was 
occasionally  repeated.     But  it  was  on  Erench  poetry  of  more 
modern  fibre  and  more  nearly  contemporary  date  that  Spenser 
and  the  adult  Elizabethans  fixed  their  steadiest  gaze. 

In  the  gloomy  interval  between  Wyatt  and  Spenser,  Marot 
was  himself  dethroned  in  France.  A  new  king  of  poetry 
arose.  Erance  came  under  a  new  poetic  dispensation,  of 
which  the  chief  apostle  was  Ronsard.  Ronsard  was,  if  not 
the  inaugurator,  the  acknowledged  master  of  a  new  poetic 
school  in  Erance,  a  school  of  unprecedented  wealth  in  melody 
and  fancy.  The  temple  of  Erench  poetry  was  crowded  with 
a  new  generation  of  worshippers  of  Apollo  who  eagerly 
accepted  Ronsard's  priesthood.  There  is  justification  for  the 
contemporary  vaunt  that  the  Muses  from  1550  to  1580  treated 
France  as  their  consecrated  home.  '  Never  before,'  truthfully 
writes  the  literary  chronicler  of  the  era,  '  had  France  such 
a  plenitude  of  poets  {telle  fo'ison  de poetes).  Every  province, 
every  city,  sent  its  poets  to  enrol  themselves  under  the 
standard  of  the  new  chieftain,  Ronsard.'  ^ 

It  is  for  us  to  study  the  impression  which  this  re-birth  of  the 
poetic  art  in  France  left  on  English  poetry,  to  estimate  how 
far  the  Elizabethan  lyric  was  coloured  by  the  ideals  and  modes 
of  the  French  poetry,  which  came  to  birth  with  the  second 
half  of  the  century.  The  sonnets  and  all  short  lyric  poems 
lie  within  the  scope  of  this  survey.  The  English  poetic 
development  was  too  tardy  to  offer  any  strictly  contemporary 
outburst  with  which  to  compare  the  great  Erench  uprising. 
It  was  a  generation  of  a  date  later  than  that  of  Ronsard 
which  first  saw  the  lyric  sentiment  of  Elizabethan  England 
acquire  genuine  force.    The  new   French  spirit   was   active 

1  Etienne  Pasquier's  Lettrcs,  1555,  in  LEtcvrcs,  Amsterdam,  1723, 
ii,  p.  II. 


1 86  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

in  France  long  before  the  Elizabethans  were  garnering  their 
first  poetic  sheaves.  But  the  French  inspiration  was  slow 
to  lose  its  vigour.  It  had  not  lost  all  its  freshness  in  the 
halcyon  days  of  Elizabethan  energy.  The  Elizabethan  song 
and  sonnet  are  reckoned  among  the  fairest  flowers  of  Ehza- 
bethan  literature.  There  is  nothing  depreciatory  in  the 
admission,  if  facts  warrant  it,  that  much  of  their  fragrance 
breathes  the  freshly  scented  air  of  France,  or  that,  to 
use  a  robuster  metaphor  which  has  Elizabethan  sanction, 
Elizabethans  quaffed  copious  draughts  of  the  new  French 
Helicon. 

II 

The  Birth  of  the  Pleiade 

In  1549,  five  years  after  Marot's  death,  five  young  men  of 
literary  ambition  and  of  high  classical  attainments,  were 
attending  at  a  college — le  College  de  Coqueret — in  Paris  the 
classes  of  an  eminent  humanist,  Jean  Dorat.  He  inspired  his 
pupils  with  a  fiery  enthusiasm  for  the  great  writers  of  Greece, 
especially  for  Homer  and  Pindar,  Aeschylus  and  Sophocles. 
The  young  men,  all  of  good  family  and  from  cultured  homes, 
also  read  for  themselves  much  recent  Italian  literature.  When,  in 
the  confidence  of  ambitious  youth,  they  compared  the  literary 
masterpieces  of  Greece  and  modern  Italy  with  the  efforts  of 
Marot  and  of  Marot's  precursors  which  still  enjoyed  a  vogue, 
they  boldly  pronounced  the  poetic  literature  of  their  own 
tongue  to  be  clumsy,  insipid,  thin,  inartistic,  bucolic.  There- 
upon they  deliberately  set  themselves  to  reform  or  re-create 
the  literature  of  their  country.  They  would  assimilate  in 
fullest  measure  the  artistic  refinement  and  restraint  of  Greek 
literary  art  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  warm  sensuous  melody 
of  modern  Italian  poetry  on  the  other.  There  was  in  the 
resolve  a  note  of  insolence  which  only  success  could  excuse. 

Viewed  in  all  its  aspects,  the  episode  is  a  singular  pas- 
sage in  literary  history.  These  young  men,  with  the  serene 
arrogance  of  budding  manhood,  said  in  so  many  w^ords, 
'  French   poetry  is  spiritless    and    crude ;    it    is  no  credit  to 


DU  BELL  AY'S  MANIFESTO  187 

our  nation.  We  intend  to  clean  the  slate  and  start  afresh.' 
The  young  men  deliberately  formed  themselves  into  a  society 
to  refashion  the  poetry  of  their  country,  and,  contrary  to 
expectation,  they  succeeded  in  giving  triumphant  effect  to 
their  conscious  aim.  Change  in  the  temper  and  tone  of 
poetry  has  been  in  this  country  an  unconscious  development, 
notwithstanding  Wordsworth's  preface  of  1798,  when  he 
announced  a  design  to  bring  poetry  down  from  the  heights 
of  pomposity  to  the  plains  of  simplicity.  Very  rarely  has 
the  development  of  poetry  been  in  other  countries  than 
France  a  consistently  conscious  movement.  But  the  new 
school  of  French  poetry  in  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth 
century  was  consistently  and  consciously  planned  in  minute 
detail.  The  victory  has  led  to  experiments  of  similar  calibre 
in  France  at  a  later  date.  The  romantic  movement— /<? 
Roinaniicisme—oi  the  early  nineteenth  century  arose  in  very 
like  fashion. 

The  creed  of  the  new  sixteenth-century  school  was  set  forth 
in  a  preliminary  manifesto  from  the  pen  of  the  oldest  of  the 
revolutionary  spirits— of  Joachim  du  Bellay,  aged  twenty-four 
The  manifesto  was  published  in  1 549  under  the  title  La  Deffense 
et  Ilhistration  dc  la  langiie  frangoise.  The  main  argument 
runs  thus :  The  French  language  was  not  to  be  scorned.  In 
the  hands  of  great  writers  it  might  reach  the  level  of  I^atin 
and  Greek.  But  to  give  it  its  needful  lustre,  it  must  be 
fertihzed  anew  by  foreign  importations.  Hard  work  and  long 
nights  must  be  devoted  to  study  of  the  Italian,  the  Latin,  and 
the  Greek.  The  Italian  had  enriched  itself  by  thefts  from  the 
Latin.  Latin  had  ennobled  itself  by  thefts  from  the  Greek. 
The  French  could  only  find  salvation  by  thefts  from  all  the 
three.  The  old  forms— rondeaus,  virelays,  et  autres  epiceries— 
must  be  abandoned.  Chansons  or  songs  must  be  replaced  by 
odes  ;  comic  fables  by  satire  ;  mystery-plays  by  comedies  and 
tragedies  ;  dixains  by  sonnets,  '  that  cultured  and  charming 
Italian  invention.'  Mediaeval  fancies  and  childish  ineptitudes 
must  be  dismissed  to  the  Round  Table  of  a  played-out 
age.  There  was  need  of  a  more  elevated  poetry  drawn  from 
sources  of  real  antiquity — from  the  antiquity  which  conserved 


1 88  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

enlightenment,  not  from  the  antiquity  which  cloaked  obscu- 
rantism. 

From  end  to  end  Du  Bellay's  plea  was  permeated  by  the 
broad  humanism  of  France.  He  deprecated  sympathy  with 
those  who  despised  the  French  language  and  deemed  it 
incapable  of  ultimate  perfection.  He  was  no  less  hostile  to 
scholars,  who  treated  Latin  and  Greek  poetry  and  prose  like 
sanctified  relics,  which  must  be  looked  at  in  sacred  places 
through  panes  of  glass,  and  must  never  be  touched  with  one's 
own  hands.  Greek  and  Latin  books  ought  rather  to  come  out 
of  their  dead  shells.  They  ought  to  wing  their  way  daily 
through  the  mouths  of  men  in  modern  speech.  But  while 
the  revolutionary  leader  commended  as  true  patriotism  the 
labours  of  translation,  he  pointed  out  that  translation  had 
spiritual  limitations.  The  dangers  of  constraint  and  ungrace- 
fulness  were  never  negligible.  It  was  not  to  be  expected  that 
all  translators  could  satisfy  the  supreme  test  of  raising  in 
their  readers'  minds  the  precise  feeling  evoked  by  the  originals. 
Vernacular  adaptation  of  the  aesthetic  spirit  of  the  classics 
was  the  safest  road  to  emancipation. 

The  names  of  the  five  young  men  who  organized  the  new 
school  were  Pierre  de  Ronsard,  Joachim  du  Bellay,  Remy 
Belleau,  Jean  Antoine  de  Baif,  and  Etienne  Jodelle.  Baif 
and  Jodelle  were  only  seventeen  years  old,  Belleau  was 
twenty-one,  and  Ronsard  and  Du  Bellay  twenty-four.  To 
the  five  there  were  soon  added  a  more  mature  student,  Pontus 
de  Tyard,  aged  twenty-eight,  and  the  Greek  professor, 
Jean  Dorat,  aged  forty-one.  This  band  of  seven,  buoyant 
with  youthful  hope,  was  first  content  to  be  known  as  le  docte 
brigade.  But  it  soon  gave  itself  the  more  distinctive  name  of 
[  the~Seven  Stars,  the  Pleiade,  after  a  company  of  Greek  poets 
at  the  court  of  Ptolemy  Philadelphus  at  Alexandria,  which 
had  assumed  the  same  designation.  The  French  Pleiade  is 
the  best  known  constellation  in  literary  history. 

The  work  of  the  Pleiade  was  voluminous  and  \'aried.  The 
new  poets  tried  every  manner  of  literary  experiment  in  their 
effort  to  acclimatize  Greek  and  Italian  forms  of  poetry,  in  their 
resolve  to  give  P'rench  poetry  new  grace  and  refinement.     But 


RONSARD'S  CAREER  189 

save  Dorat,  whose  work  being  in  Latin  hardly  concerns  us,  all 
devoted  their  best  energies  to  lyric  or  elegiac  verse,  to  short 
poems  of  love  or  reflection,  among  which  the  imitation  of  the 
Italian  sonnet  filled  a  commanding  place.  The  drama  and  the 
epic  were  not  ignored.  Jodcllc,  one  of  the  seven  chieftains, 
did  his  main  work  as  a  dramatist  and  in  that  capacity  exerted 
influence  at  home  and  abroad.  IJut  the  lyric  note  predo- 
minated and  gave  the  Pleiade  its  widest  fame.  A  new  style 
of  lyric  elegance  and  lyric  melody  was  the  most  characteristic 
fruit  of  the  great  poetic  movement. 

Ill 

Ron SARD 

The  acknowledged  chief  of  the  Pleiade  was  Pierre  de 
Ronsard,  who  deserves  to  rank  with  the  poetic  artists  of  the 
world.  His  poetry  presents  nearly  all  the  characteristics 
of  his  school  in  their  perfection.  \\'hile  he  lived  he  was  the 
dictator  of  French  literary  taste.  He  is  the  poetic  master 
of  the  French  Renaissance.  Born  on  September  11,  1524,  at 
his  father's  Chateau  de  la  Po/ssoniere,  near  \"end6me,  in  the 
valley  of  the  Loire,  he  was  son  of  a  steward  of  Francis  I,  and 
after  a  brief  education  in  Paris,  became  in  boyhood  page  to 
the  king's  son,  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  who  died  young.  From! 
the  age  of  ten  to  twenty-four  he  served  in  royal  or  noble  j 
households.  IVIany  of  his  masters  were  engaged  in  foreign 
diplomacy,  and  the  youth  visited  foreign  countries— Scotland 
and  England,  Flanders  and  Holland— in  the  ambassadors' 
train.  Ill-health,  which  resulted  in  permanent  deafness,  com- 
pelled him  in  early' manhood  to  abandon  the  active  life  of  the 
court  and  diplomacy.  It  was  then  that  he  renewed  his  studies 
with  extraordinary  ardour,  and  joined  his  tutor  Dorat  and 
his  fellow  students,  Du  Bellay,  Baif,  Jodelle,  Belleau,  Tyard,  in 
their  efforts  to  re-create  French  poetry.  Thenceforth  Ronsard 
consecrated  his  life  to  the  Muses  and  to  culture. 

No  one  is  entitled  to  question  Ronsard's  declarations  that  he 
sang  from  boyhood  because  he  must.     The  genuineness  of 


190  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

his  inspiration  admits  of  no  doubt.  Of  the  spontaneity  and 
the  fluency  which  comes  of  the  divine  fount  Ronsard  has  no  lack. 
Yet  he  is  far  removed  from  the  poetic  children  of  nature  who 
sing  but  as  the  linnets  sing.  He  was  a  man  of  learning,  and 
although  his  sympathy  with  nature  and  with  humanity  often 
invests  his  verse  with  an  unaffected  simplicity,  his  style  was 
deliberately  fashioned  in  moulds  of  scholarship  and  art. 
Poetry  was  for  him  '  la  belle  science  \  Like  Horace,  he  wrote 
much  of  the  Art  of  Poetry,  and  the  broad  principles  on  which 
he  lays  emphasis  in  his  critical  essays  throw  light  on  the 
general  character  of  the  Pleiade  and  explain  its  far-reaching 
influence. 

In  the  first  place  Ronsard  framed  the  rule  that  the  vocabu- 
jlary  of  poetry  was  of  right  far  removed  from  that  of  prose. 
j  The  verse  that  could  readily  be  turned  into  prose  was  bad 
verse,  and  the  prose  that  could  readily  be  turned  into  verse 
was,  according  to  Ronsard,  bad  prose.     The  bounds  of  the 
one  rarely,  if  ever,  encroached  on  those  of  the  other.     In  the 
second  place  the  French  poet  preached  the  close  affinity  of 
music  and  poetry.      He  judged  that  poetry  which  did  not 
lend  Itself  with  facility  to  musical  setting  was  without  sure 
signs  of  excellence.      '  La  musique,'  he  said,  '  est   la  sceur 
puisnee   de    la   poesie,    et  les  poetes  et   musiciens   sont   les 
enfans  sacrez  des  Muses  ;  sans  la  musique  la  poesie  est  presque 
sans  grace,  comme  la  musique  sans  la  melodic  des  vers,  est 
inanimee  et  sans  vie.'  ^    New  turns  of  language,  which  removed 
verse  from  common  speech,  and  new  turns  of  metre  which 
gave  prosody  the  melody  of  music,  are  among  Ronsard's  main 
contributions  to  poetic  art. 

Like  his  allies,  Ronsard,  though  an  innovator  in  literary 
matters,  was  a  conservative  in  religion  and  politics,  a  lover  of 
I  law  and  order,  a  faithful  adherent  of  the  catholic  king,  and  a 
^  foe  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Huguenots,  One  of  his  colleagues, 
Pontus  de  Tyard,  became  Bishop  of  Chalons.  He  himself 
took  minor  orders,  and  was  rewarded  with  Church  preferment 
freed    of  clerical   duty.      He   held   the  pleasant  priories  of 

*  (Envres,  ed.  Blanchemain,  viii,  p.  51. 


RONSARD'S  RELIGION  191 

St.  Cosme  near  Tours  and  of  vSte.  Croix-A'al,both  in  Touraine. 
The  religion  of  their  ancestors  was  good  enough  for  Ronsard 
and  his  fellow  servants  of  the  Muses.  Belief  in  a  beneficent 
Creator,  '  le  pere  de  tout  bien,'  satisfied  their  spiritual 
aspiration  ;  niceties  of  dogma  failed  to  move  their  interest. 

To  Ronsard  and  his  friends  the  austere  ideals  of  a  Huguenot 
dispensation  were  repugnant.  In  1563  Ronsard  replied  to 
fellow  countrymen  of  the  Reformed  faith  who  reproached 
him  with  self-indulgence.  He  warmly  denied  their  allegations 
that  he  was  an  atheist  or  a  drunkard  or  the  victim  of  vicious 
disease.  But  with  splendid  self-confidence  he  exposes  the 
futihty  of  life  without  art.  He  claims  that  his  religious 
beliefs  are  as  simple  as  those  of  his  censors,  and  that  by  his  en- 
thusiasm for  the  reformation  of  art  he  renders  his  countrymen 
as  high  a  spiritual  service  as  they  by  the  reformation  which  they 
are  devising  of  Christian  doctrine.  He  rejoices  in  the  confes- 
sion that  he  loves  laughter  and  women's  smiles,  music  and  the 
masque,  a  cup  of  wine,  a  walk  beside  a  river,  or  a  book  in 
season  beneath  a  shady  tree.  He  is  proud  to  assert  that  the 
Muses  have  adorned  his  brow  with  myrtle,  and  that  he  wears 
the  laurel  of  Apollo.^ 

The  souls  of  Ronsard  and  his  friends  sought  indeed 
poetic  sustenance  in  other  revelations  than  those  of  the 
orthodox  Church.  Ronsard's  temperament  was  largely \ 
pagan.  Greek  sentiment  swayed  his  being.  He  invoked 
Apollo  and  Pallas  to  protect  him  from  worldly  distractions. 
He  worshipped  at  the  shrine  of  Aphrodite  and  her  son  Eros. 
His  poetic  ritual  was  devised  in  honour  of  Pan  and  Bacchus. 
His  genius  sought  the  companionship  of  Naiads  and  Dryads. 
The  brightness  and  joyousness  in  his  nature  found  their 
closest  affinity  in  the  atmosphere  of  a  pagan  world. 

A  regal  belief  in  himself  and  in  his  work  is  another  dominant 
feature  of  Ronsard's  character.  His  self-assurance  was  fos- 
tered by  the  circumstances  of  his  life.  He  never  lacked 
royal  patrons.  Four  kings  of  France  paid  him  the  highest 
honours,   and  he  received  their  marks  of  respect  with   an 

'  CEuvres,  vii,  p.  26. 


192  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

admirable  assurance.  Mary  Stuart  prided  herself  on  his 
friendship,  which  found  expression  not  only  in  beautiful 
verses  from  her  own  pen,  but  in  the  g-ift  of  a  silver  model 
of  Mount  Parnassus,  inscribed  '  A  Ronsard  1' Apollo  de  la 
source  des  Muses  '.  He  was  at  one  time  the  guest  of  the 
English  queen,  who  acknowledged  his  eulogies  of  herself  and 
of  her  favourite  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  as  well  as  of  her  minister. 
Sir  William  Cecil,  with  the  g-ift  of  a  diamond,  which,  she  de- 
plored, was  less  lustrous  than  his  poetry.  Ronsard  was  never 
sparing  in  compliments  of  exalted  persons.^  Soon  after 
France  and  England  made  the  great  treaty  of  peace  at 
Troyes  within  a  few  weeks  of  Shakespeare's  birth  in  1564, 
the  poet  confirmed  the  instrument,  almost  as  though  he  were 
one  of  the  high  contracting  parties,  by  dedicating  to  the  English 
queen  a  new  volume  of  Elegies^  Mascarades  et  Bergeri'es. 
His  patroness.   Queen    Catherine   de'  Medici,   approved   his 

^  Queen  Elizabeth's  beauty  and  accomplishments  lose  nothing  at 
Ronsard's  hand.  Like  so  many  who  paid  personal  court  to  the 
English  queen,  Ronsard  is  specially  delighted  with  her  power  of  speaking 
many  languages.  He  looks  for  the  day  when  swans  on  the  river  Thames 
will  proclaim  that  the  Muses  have  deserted  Parnassus  to  greet  in  poetry 
the  sovereigns  of  England,  but  the  day  of  the  swans  of  the  Thames  had 
not  yet  dawned.  In  complacent  mood  Ronsard  regrets  that  God  has 
denied  England  the  joy  of  the\ineyard,  with  which  his  own  country 
was  bountifully  endowed,  but  bids  her  take  comfort,  Bacchus  had 
not  refused  Britons  all  his  gifts ;  the  merry  god  had  joined  Ceres  in 
creating  beer  {Le  Bocage  Royal,  1567,  in  CEiivres,  ed.  Blanchemain, 
iii.  331).  Cecil,  whose  name  and  lineage  Ronsard  fancifully  derives 
from  Sicily,  he  praises  for  his  politic  diplomacy  and  his  courtesy  to 
strangers  [CEuvres,  ed.  Blanchemain,  iii.  393).  '  Milord  Robert  Dudley, 
Comte  de  Leicester,'  is  credited  with  almost  divine  faculties, — the 
beauty  of  Venus,  the  wit  of  Mercury,  and  the  wisdom  of  Minerva. 
His  triumphs  in  the  tournament,  the  chase,  and  the  dance  are  beyond 
compare.  Ronsard  declared  that  he  risked  the  perils  of  the  ocean  to 
cast  his  eyes  on  so  noble  a  prodigy.  Ronsard's  opinion  of  Leicester 
changed  as  years  rolled  on,  and  with  characteristic  frankness  he 
adapted  his  verse  to  his  altered  views.  When  he  reprinted  the  poem 
he  removed  ail  reference  to  Leicester,  substituting  for  the  Earl's  name 
that  of  King  Arthur,  and  representing  his  laudation  of  the  English  noble- 
man as  Merlin's  mythical  description  of  the  old  British  king.  Finally 
Ronsard  suppressed  the  panegyric  altogether  {CEuvres,  ed.  Blanchemain, 
iv.  382).  The  P'rench  poet  elsewhere  shows  his  early  interest  in 
Leicester  by  reporting  the  rumour  of  his  coming  marriage  with  Queen 
Elizabeth.  He  mentions  among  extraordinary  prophecies — 
Et  qu'un  Anglois  si  fortune  sera 
Que  sa  maitresse  un  jour  espousera. 

CEifvres,  vi.  262. 


RONSARD'S  SHLF-CONFIDENCE  193 

interposition.  In  the  dedicatory  epistle  the  poet  contentedly 
professes  to  commend  his  name  and  fame  for  all  future  time 
to  Queen  Elizabeth's  care.^  Yet  impatience  of  claims 
to  glory  which  he  did  not  share,  made  it  congenial  to  him 
to  keep  before  the  mind  of  ro)'al  and  noble  patrons  the 
truths  that  poverty  and  lowly  rank  are  surer  roads  to  hap- 
piness than  pomp  and  state,  and  that  rich  and  poor  will  both 
alike  come  to  dust. 

Toutes  choses  mondaines 
Qui  vestent  nerfs  et  veines 

La  mort  egale  prend, 
Soient  pauvres  ou  soient  princes  ; 
Car  sur  toutes  provinces 

Sa  main  large  s'estend.- 

The  estimate  which  Ronsard  formed  of  himself  as  well  as  of 
others  won  general  authority,  despite  the  evergrowing  range  of 
his  pretensions.  He  claimed,  when  denouncing  the  Huguenots, 
that  the  poet— not  the  preacher— confers  greatness  on  a  people. 
His  poetic  work,  he  asserted,  had  set  the  Frenchman  on  the 
level  of  the  Romans  and  the  Greeks,  and  had  given  his  fellow  \ 
countrymen  a  reputation  that  they  never  enjoyed  before. 
The  credit  which  the  French  settlers  in  Geneva  claimed  was 
part  of  his  gift  to  his  nation.  '  Vous  estes,'  he  tells  the  wrang- 
ling theologians,  the  Zwinglians,  the  Lutherans,  the  Ana- 
baptists, the  Calvinists,  and  '  les  autres  Puritains  ', 

Vous  estes  tous  issus  de  ma  Muse  et  de  moy  : 

Vous  estes  mes  sujects,  je  suis  seul  vostre  roy  :  ^ 

Vous  estes  mes  ruisseaux,  je  suis  vostre  fonteine. ' 

The  dignity  with  which  he  often  received  and  distributed 
flattery   yielded    at  times  to   his   thirst   for  extravagant  cind 

'  This  dedicatory  epistle  seems  only  to  appear  in  a  rare  first  edition  of 
Elegies,  Mascarades  et  Bergeries  (i  565).  The  epistle  is  not  to  be  found  ui 
any  reissue  of  the  volume,  but  it  is  reprinted  in  Marty-Laveaux's  edition 
of  the  Pleiade,  vi.  446.  (Cf.  Paul  Laumoniers  Ronsard,  Pocte  Lyrique, 
1909,  pp.  214-15.)  The  volume  includes  poems  addressed  to  the  Earl 
of  Leicester  and  Sir  William  Cecil  as  well  as  to  Oueen  Elizabeth,  all  of 
which  reappeared  in  Le  Bocage  Royal  (15671. 

2  Ronsard,  Odes,  Bk.  IV,  Ode  v  [CEiivres,  ii.  253). 

3  CEuvres,  vii,  p.  128.  Ronsard's  poem  was  first  published  in  1563. 
The  word  '  Puritan '  would  seem  to  have  been  used  familiarly  in  France 
before  it  was  generally  accepted  in  England. 

LEE  O 


194  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

pompous  adulation.  He  liked  to  be  told  that  the  deafness 
from  which  he  suffered  resembled  the  blindness  of  Homer. 
Finally  he  summed  up  his  attitude  to  the  world  in  the 
haughty  line : 

Je  suis  Ronsard,  et  cela  te  suffice ! 

The  expression  was  taken  seriously  by  his  admirers,  and  was 

deemed  by  a  contemporary  biographer  to  be  a  fitting  epitaph. 

Ronsard's  last  years  were  spent   in   retirement,  which    he 

divided  between  his  two  abbeys  of  Ste  Croix-Val  and  of  St. 

Cosme.       There  library  and  garden  gave  him  contentment. 

A  gentle  melancholy  lends  a  peculiar  pathos  to  his   latest 

works  and  his  declining  days.    Although  he  had  no  misgivings 

of  the  immortality  of  his  renown,  he  was  nervous  of  neglect, 

/and  the  praises  of  younger  men  caused  him,  in  spite  of  his 

j  disclaimers,  discomfort.     Disease  had  turned  his  hair  gray  at 

thirty,  and  the  further  ravages  of  age  dejected  him.      The 

miseries   of  civil    and    religious    strife   oppressed   him   like 

personal  sorrows. 

Yet  Ronsard  died  in  the  fullness  of  his  fame.  Two  months 
after  his  death  at  St.  Cosme  (on  December  2"]^  1585),  a 
ponipe  fnnebre  was  celebrated  in  the  chapel  of  the 
College  de  Boncour  at  Paris,  and  its  splendour  might  have 
reconciled  him  to  his  dying  anxieties.  The  crowd  of  royal 
and  noble  mourners  was  so  great  that  even  princes  and  lords 
of  Church  and  State  were  turned  from  the  chapel  doors.  The 
English  ambassador  of  the  day.  Sir  Edward  Stafford,  had 
small  sympathy  with  literature  and  much  suspicion  of  all 
Catholic  ritual.  He  probably  made  no  effort  to  attend,  but  it 
is  permissible  to  conjecture  that  the  ambassador  s  chaplain, 
Richard  Hakluyt,  whose  mind  was  alert  to  every  intellectual 
influence,  was  not  willingly  absent  from  the  great  ceremony. 
The  oraison  ftinebf^e  was  pronounced  by  the  most  cultured 
preacher  of  the  day,  Jacques  du  Perron,  who  next  year  did 
\)(^^^  '  j  a  like  service  to  the  memory  of  Queen  Mary  Stuart,  and  later 
J  presided  at  the  ceremony  of  Henry  IV's  abjuration  of  the 
Protestant  faith.  P'inally  a  cardinal,  Du  Perron  won  fame 
as  a  poet  as  well  as  a  Catholic  controversialist  and  pulpit- 
oralor.     His  funeral  ciogc  of  Ronsard  is  a  model  of  elegiac 


FUNERAL   ORATION  ON  RONSARl)  195 

eloquence,  and  still  preserves  that  living  grace  which  gives 
enduring  freshness  to  so  much  of  the  fruit  of  the  French 
Renaissance. 

'  He  will  live,'  the  preacher  prophesied  of  the  mighty  poet, 
'  he  will  be  read,  he  will  flourish,  he  will  be  cherished  in  the 
thought  and  memory  of  men,  so  long  as  there  shall  be  any 
signs  and  any  memorials  of  the  realm  of  Frenchmen,  so  long 
as  the  French  tongue  has  currency  and  sound  among  foreign 
peoples,  so  long  as  letters  shall  enjoy  reverence  and  esteem. 
.  .  .  Time  will  only  serve  to  increase  his  fame.  .  .  .  Vials 
full  of  perfumes  and  scents,  coming  to  be  broken,  spread  their 
odour  further  than  they  did  before.'  ^ 

Ronsard  was  laid  to  rest  soon  after  he  completed  his  sixty- 
first  year.  Shakespeare,  his  junior  by  thirty-nine  years, 
came  of  age  while  the  French  poet  was  still  alive.  As  far  as 
chronology  goes,  the  sovereign  genius  of  English  Renaissance 
poetry  might  have  been  son  to  the  emperor  of  French 
Renaissance  poetry  on  whom  the  preacher  passed  a  just 
verdict.  Although  much  of  Ronsard's  voluminous  work  is 
tedious  pedantry,  his  fine  achievements  are  many,  and  they 
deserve  the  eulogy  passed  on  the  French  queen  Marie 
Antoinette  by  Burke,  when  he  described  her  at  the  zenith  of 
her  career  as  '  ghttering  as  the  northern  star,  full  of  life  and 
splendour  and  joy  '. 

1  Ronsard,  (Etivres,  viii,  p.  213.  'II  vivra,  il  sera  leu,  il  fleurira,  11  se 
conservera  dans  la  pensee  et  dans  la  souvenance  des  hommes,  tant  qu'il 
y  aura  quelques  enseignes  et  quelques  marques  de  I'empire  des  Francois, 
tant  que  la  lange  franc^oise  aura  quelque  cours  et  quelque  son  parmy  las 
nations  estrangeres,  tant  que  les  lettres  seront  en  estime  et  en  reverence. 
.  .  .  II  ne  craindra  aucune  suitte  de  temps  ny  aucune  antiquite',  il  fre- 
quentera  spirituellement  et  invisiblement  avec  nous,  et  plus  il  ira  en 
avant  et  plus  il  verra  croistre  et  augmenter  sa  renomme ;  .  .  .  ny  plus 
ny  moins  que  les  phioles  pleines  de  parfums  et  de  senteurs,  lesquelles 
venant  a  so  casser,  espandent  leur  odeur  encore  beaucoup  plus  loin 
qu'elles  ne  faisoient  auparavant.'  The  simile  of  the  broken  scent-bottle 
adumbrates  Shakespeare's  contempt  for  sealed  vials  of  rose-water,  '  a 
liquid  prisoner  pent  in  walls  of  glass  '  {Sofifwts,  v.  10). 


O  2 


196   FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

IV 

The  Themes  of  the  Pleiade 

The  subject-matter  of  the  Pleiades  songs  and  sonnets 
strikes  various  notes.  The  poetry  in  its  more  serious  strain 
v^oices  patriotic  elation,  political  ambition,  religious  zeal,  dread 
of  death,  sympathy  with  suffering,  and  an  almost  romantic 
feeling  for  nature.  But  the  theme  to  which  the  canvas  owes 
its  sparkling  radiance  is  the  pagan  delight  in  life's  fleeting 
joys.  The  doctrine  that  the  present  is  all  that  counts,  the 
worship  of  love  and  youth,  the  faith  in  women  and  wine,  are 
main  articles  in  the  poetic  creed  of  the  Pleiade.  The  parentage 
of  these  blithe  conceptions  deserv^es  attention. 

French   adaptations   of  the   Pindaric   ode   were    the    first 
achievements  of  the  bold  innovators,  but  a  quite  unexpected 
stimulus  of  a  somewhat  different  calibre  came  at  the  outset 
from  the  discovery  by  Henri  Etienne,  the  great  scholar^printer 
of  France,  of  a  manuscript  containing  a  series  of  Greek  poems 
ascribed  to  Anacreon.     That  lyric  poet  was  known  to  have 
lived  and  written  in  the  sixth-century  before  Christ.     Early 
Greek   grammarians   mention   Anacreon's   work,    but,  until 
Etienne  discovered  in  a  unique  manuscript  the  collection  of 
lyrics  which  he  set  to  Anacreon's  credit,  Anacreon's  verse  was 
/  unknown.    Etienne's  unique  manuscript  formed  an  appendix  to 
I  an  isolated  codex  of  the  Greek  anthology.     Other  manuscript 
I  copies  of  the  Greek  anthology  had  been  recovered  earlier. 
That  poetic  miscellany  had  been  printed  early  in  the   six- 
teenth  century;    but   Anacreon's  work   was    not   associated 
with  it,  before  Etienne's  discovery  of  1552.    Since  Etienne's 
day    scholars    have    proved    conclusively    that    the    poems 
assigned    by    him    to    Anacreon    are    of  a    date   later   than 
Anacreon's  era,  that  they  were  probably  penned  at  Alexandria 
early    in    the    Christian    era,    and    that    they    are    spurious 
I  imitations  of  the  poet's  genuine  work,  specimens  of  which 
Vhave   since  come   to   light.      Only   a   minute  criticism    can 
differentiate   the  true  Anacreon    from    the    false   Anacreon. 
Both  present  gay  lyrics  of  love  and  pleasure  in  blithe  lilting 


THE  DLSCOVERY  OF  ANACRRON  197 

measures.  True  or  false  Anacreon  is  far  lighter  in  tone 
than  most  of  the  Greek  anthologists.  The  latter  often  treat 
pathetically  of  solemn  themes,  and  move  to  tears  as  often 
as  to  laughter.     Anacreon  is  the  poet  of  joy. 

The  school  of  the  Pleiade  was  fascinated  in  its  infancy  by  the 
Anacreontic  verse  which  Etienne  brought  first  to  his  country- 
men's notice.  Written  copies  of  the  Greek  text  must  have 
been  in  their  hands  even  before  Etienne's  book  was  published. 
For  Ronsard  and  his  friends  printed  avowed  imitations  in 
French  of  Anacreon's  poems  before  1 554,  the  date  of  Etienne  s 
publication.  \\'ithin  a  year  of  the  issue  of  Etienne's  volume 
a  translation  of  the  whole  into  French  verse  came  from  the  pen 
of  Remy  Belleau,  one  of  Ronsard's  colleagues,  and  thence- 
forward adaptations,  translations,  imitations  abounded.  The 
Pleiade  laid  the  deeper-toned  anthologists  also  under  con- 
tribution. But  Anacreon's  jocund  temper  and  short,  dancing 
metre  were  worshipped  by  them  almost  idolatrously.  Well 
might  Ronsard  fill  high  the  flowing  bowl  and  chant  the 
toast  (Odes,  Bk.  v,  Ode  xv) — 

Verse  done  et  reverse  encor 
Dedans  ceste  grand'  coupe  d'or ; 

Je  vay  boire  a  Henry  Estienne 
Qui  des  enfers  nous  a  rendu 
Du  vieil  Anacreon  perdu 

La  douce  lyre  teienne. 

The  poets  of  the  Pleiade  were  the  first  not  only  to  trans- 
late Anacreon's  Greek  into  modern  speech,  but  to  make  the 
Anacreontic  vein  current  coin  of  modern  poetry.  The 
French  Renaissance  failed  on  its  advent  to  deprive  of  its 
old  predominance  the  solemn  and  hortative  allegory  which 
had  ruled  the  mediaeval  realm  of  French  poetry.  But 
that  sad  and  serious  form  of  poetic  endeavour  retired  dis- 
comfited at  the  bidding  of  a  newly  revealed  tuneful  Muse, 
who  lightly  and  naively  declared  in  song  that  life  owed  its  zest 
to  women  and  wine,  to  roses  and  honey,  to  kisses  and  sighs. 

Under  Anacreontic  influence,  airy  reminders  to 

Gather  ye  rosebuds  while  ye  may, 
Old  time  is  still  aflying. 


rgS  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  EEIZARETHAN  LYRIC 

became  a  recurrent  refrain  of  the  lyric  oi  the  French  Renais- 
sance. None  of  Ronsard's  voluminous  poetry  is  more  often 
cited  or  is  more  characteristic  of  the  lyric  temper  of  his  school, 
than  the  sonnet  in  which  he  pictures  his  indifferent  mistress  in 
old  age  grieving-  after  his  death  over  her  youthful  obduracy, 
or  the  song  of  lament  over  the  fading  at  dusk  of  a  rose  which 
had  bloomed  in  the  morning.    The  sonnet  ends  with  the  lines : 

Vivez,  si  m'en  croyez,  n'attendez  a  demain  : 
Cueillez  des  aujourd'huy  les  roses  de  la  vie.^ 

The  last  stanza  of  the  song  runs — 

Done,  si  vous  me  croyez,  mignonne, 
Tandis  que  vostre  age  fleuronne 

En  sa  plus  verte  nouveaute, 
Cueillez,  cueillez  vostre  jeunesse  : 
Comme  a  ceste  fleur,  la  vieillesse 

Fera  ternir  vostre  beaute.- 

In  these  two  poems  we  have  the  Anacreontic  message  fitted 
to  the  sentiment  of  the  new  age.  A  cheerful  recognition  of 
the  inevitable  conditions  of  mortality  gives,  in  the  verse  of  the 
Pleiade,  piquancy  to  the  passing  beauty  of  the  world. 

All  aspects  of  nature  which  please  the  eye  or  ear  are 
portrayed  by  the  Pleiade  poets,  not  only  with  delicate 
charm,  but  with  accuracy  in  detail  which  testifies  to  close 
observation,  Ronsard's  poems  about  the  four  seasons,  the 
lark,  the  hawthorn,  or  the  hoUybush,  are  close  studies  of 
natural  life  as  well  as  vignettes  of  poetic  accomplishment. 
Salutations  of  vSpring,  and  especially  of  the  months  of  April 
and  May  ;  exultant  cries  of  delight  at  the  gushing  of  fountains, 
at  the  song  of  birds,  at  the  glint  of  precious  stones  ;  apostrophes 
to  roses  and  lilies,  to  violets  and  daisies,  to  carnations  and 
marigolds,  embroider  the  Pleiades  airy  canvas  with  brilliant 
schemes  of  life-like  colour.  Blithe  feasts  of  love  and  wine  are 
pictured  in  flowering  glades  lit  with  the  summer  sun. 

It  is  an  ethereal  atmosphere  which  often  envelops  the  scene. 
At  times,  the  slightest  movement  in  life  or  nature  suffices  for 

^  Sonnets  pour  Helene,  xlii,  in  CEin'rcs,  i.  340. 

2  CEuvres,  ii,  p.  117  {Odes,  Book  I,  Ode  xvii.  A  Cassandre).  The  first 
line  reads,  '  Mignonne,  allons  voir  si  la  rose  .  .  . ' 


THE  MELANCHOLY  OE  Dll  I^ELLAY  199 

the  poet's  theme.     \'ery  characteristic  of  one  aspect  of  the 
movement   is   the  most  popular  of  the  poems  of  Ronsard's 
colleague  Du  Rellay,  whose  poetic   nature  was  more  deeply  | 
imbued  with  serious  sentiment  than  that  of  any  of  the  band.  I 
The  topic  is  an  appeal  of  a  peasant  to  the  wind  to  drive  into  1 
motion  the  grain  beneath  his  winnowing-flin.     The  represen- 
tative value  of  the  effort  is  all  the  greater  when  we  learn  that 
the  poem  is  a  magical  translation  from  Latin  of  a  nearly  con- 
temporary Italian  poet,  Navagero,  who  himself  was  influenced 
by  the  Greek  anthology.     In  the  last  verse  the  peasant  offers 
a  parting  prayer  to  the  winds  thus  : 

De  vostre  douce  haleine 
Eventez  ceste  plaine, 

Eventez  ce  sejour : 
Cependant  que  j'ahanne  [/.  e.  travaille] 
A  mon  ble  que  je  vanne 

A  la  chaleur  du  jour. 

The  charm  here,  as  Mr.  Pater  pointed  out,  is  all  pure  effect. 
Nearly  all  the  pleasure  in  the  silvery  grace  of  fancy  lies  in  the 
surprise  at  the  happy  way  in  which  an  incident  insignificant 
in  itself  is  handled.  Such  a  comment  does  not  apply  to  the 
whole  work  of  the  Pleiade,  but  it  is  suggestive  of  much  and 
explains  its  range  and  variety. 

The  lyre  of  the  Pleiade  is  not  always  so  lightly  strung 
Life   in    its   presentation  by    Ronsard   and  his  allies  is  not 
w^holly  free  from  complexity  or  grief.     Notes  of  sadness  are 
present,  and  they  on  occasion  strike  home.      The  cruelties 
inflicted  by  fickle  mistresses  rarely  touch  the  reader's  feelings. 
The  lovers'  melancholy  has  a  somewhat  hollow  echo.     Never-  ? 
theless  the  thought   that  •  I'amour  et  la   mort  n'est  qu'une  J 
meme  chose  '  is  at  times  invested  with  a  poignancy  that  is  dis-^ 
concerting,  and  grief  for  loss  of  friends  is  nearly  ahvays  of 
pathetic   earnestness.      No  elegies  strike  a  sincerer  note  of 
sorrow  than  many  of  the  lamentations  of  the  Pleiade  on  the 
death  of  their  associates.     Melancholy  was  curiously  dominant 
in  the  nature  of  Du  Bellay,  who  proudly  claimed  and   was 
duly  accorded  the  honour  of  first  domesticating  the  Italian 
sonnet  in  Erance.     vSeldom  has  more  touching  regret  for  the 


200  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

decay  of  greatness,  for  the  defacement '  by  Time's  fell  hand  '  of 

The  rich  proud  cost  of  out-worn  buried  age, 

found  poetic  expression  than  in  Du  Bellay's  sequence  of 
sonnets  called  Les  Aniiqitites  de  RoniCy  which  he  penned 
while  on  a  visit  to  Italy.  The  series  is  a  poet's  reverie  amid 
ruins.  A  lively  historic  sense  overwhelms  him  with  despair. 
Rarely,  too,  has  a  patriot's  affection  for  his  motherland 
sounded  a  more  touching-  note  than  in  Du  Bellay's  series  of 
sonnets  called  Les  Regrets,  which  he  penned  while  serving 
as  secretary  to  the  French  ambassador  at  Rome : 

France  mere  des  arts,  des  armes  et  des  lois, 
Tu  m'as  nourry  long  temps  du  laict  de  ta  mammelle : 
Ores,  comme  un  aigneau  qui  sa  nourrisse  appelle, 

Je  rempHs  de  ton  nom  les  antres  et  les  bois. 

Du  Bellay's  Les  Regrets  form  an  intimate  poetic  journal  of 
that  homesickness  which  patriotism  fosters  in  the  heart  of 
a  sensitive  exile. 

The  practical  outlook  of  the  Pleiade  often  went  indeed  far 
be^-^ond  the  worship  of  love  and  lilies.  The  poets  did  not  live 
aloof  from  the  social  and  political  interests  of  ordinary  life. 
They  loved  their  country,  rejoicing  in  her  political  and 
military  triumphs,  and  grieving  over  her  misfortunes.  Ronsard 
himself  at  times  abandoned  his  complacency  amid  political 
anxiety  and  bitterness  of  party  spirit.  In  the  four  books  of  his 
unfinished  epic,  called  La  Franciade,  he  gives  ample  rein 
to  his  patriotic  ardour,  and  furiously  denounces  the  foreign 
and  domestic  enemies  of  France.  The  religious  wars  at  home 
roused  in  his  and  the  other  poets'  hearts  despair  and  shame, 
and  on  England — the  prison  of  the  venerated  Queen  of  Scots 
— they  came  to  reflect  with  scurrility  and  to  heap  maledictions 
in  a  fiercely  tragic  key. 

Of  passing  events  further  removed  from  their  own  country 
than  Queen  Mary's  martyrdom,  the  poets  of  the  Pleiade  were 
most  deeply  impressed  by  the  discovery  of  America  and  the 
devastation  of  Greece  by  the  Turks.  Ronsard  rejoiced  to  be 
alive  in  an  age  which  had  witnessed  the  glorious  revelation  by 
a  Spanish  fleet  of  a  new  continent,  a  new  ocean,  new  peoples, 


POLITICAL  INTERESTS  OF  THE  PLl^IADE     201 

and    new   languages.^      The   aboriginal    tril:)es    of   America 
excited  immense  curiosity  in    France.     Ronsard  hailed  them  , 
as  survivors  of  the  golden  age  of  purity,  as  men  free  from  the  j 
sophistications  of  Europe,  as  human  beings  who  were  captains 
of  their  own  souls  [sett/s  maltres  de  soi) : 

lis  vivent  maintenant  en  leur  age  doree, 
Vivez  heureusement,  sans  peine  et  sans  souci, 
\\\Q.z  joyeusement,  je  voudrais  vivre  ainsi. 

The  love  of  Greek  literature  mainly  inspired  the  Pleiade   | 
with  a  burning  zeal  for  the  political  regeneration  of  Greece,    ' 
which   the    Turks   were    laying  waste.      With   all   Byron's 
or    Shelley's   poetic  rage    Ronsard  called  upon  his  patron 
Charles  IX,  King  of  France,  to  deliver  the  Greeks  from  the 
tyranny  of  the  Turks  : 

Bref,  ceste  Grece,  ceil  du  monde  habitable, 
Qui  n'eust  jamais  n'y  n'aura  de  semblable, 
Demande,  helas !    vostre  bras  tres-chretien 
Pour  de  son  col  desserrer  le  lien, 
Lien  barbare,  impitoyable  et   rude. 
Qui  tout  son  corps  genne  de  servitude 
Sous  ce  grand  Turc.- 

Ronsard  entreated  \^enus,  the  '  amoureuse  Cyprine  ',  to  seek 
the  aid  of  Mars  in  defending  her  island  of  Cyprus  from  the 
barbarous  seignory  of  Mahomet's  viceroy."' 


V 

The  Manner  of  the  Pleiade 

Ronsard  and  his  friends  were  before  all  else  gxeaL-inetdsts. 
They  practised  with  admirable  deftness  almost  every  variety 
of  rhyming  stanza,  combining  short  lines  with  long  lines  in 
strophes  of  varying  lengths  and  numberless  mutations.     It  is 

*  G£iri'?'es,  i.  368. 

^  CEiivres,  iii.  321. 

*  CEuvres,  i.  385.  '  Voeu  a  Venus  pour  garder  Cypre  contre  I'armee 
du  Tare' 


'y- 


202  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

said  that  Ronsard  tried  his  hand  at  sixty-three  metres  or 
strophes.  One  of  the  many  innovations  of  the  school  was 
that  four-lined  stanza  of  Tennyson's  /;/  Menioriani,  in  which 
the  first  line  rhymes  with  the  fourth,  the  second  with  the 
third.  Rut  despite  their  bold  claims  to  complete  originality, 
the  Pleiade  showed  as  much  ingenuity  in  refashioning  old 
metrical  forms  as  in  inventing  new  ones. 

Abundant  experiment  was  made  by  Ronsard  at  the  outset 
of  his  career  in  the  Greek  Pindaric  ode,  with  its  classical 
distribution  into  strophe,  antistrophe,  and  epode.^  But  the 
\  strict  classical  divisions  were  soon  exchanged  for  the  simpler 
scheme  of  the  Horatian  ode.  Hymns,  eclogues,  and  elegies 
were  of  like  classical  lineage,  but  they  rarely  came  nearer  the 
classical  pattern  than  rhyming  decasyllabics  could  bring  them. 
Such  efforts  as  the  Pleiade  made  in  the  epic  and  narrative 
fable  were  also  clothed  as  a  rule  in  decasyllabic  rhyme — the 
measure  which  fdled  in  the  new^  French  prosody  the  place 
alike  of  the  Greek  heroic  hexameter  and  the  Latin  elegiac 
couplet. 

At  the  same  time  all  the  poets  of  the  fraternity  brought 
their  ingenuity  to  bear  on  the  metrical  inventions  of  Italy. 
The  sestina,  the  madrigal,  and  even  blank  verse  left  some 
trace  on  the  work  of  the  Pleiade— yet  none  of  these  peculiarly 
Italian  innovations  took  deep  root  in  French  soil.  Xoxy 
different  was  the  fortune  of  the  sonnet,  which  was  openly 
borrowed  by  the  Pleiade  from  Italy  and  became  the  chief 
badge  of  the  new  poetic  movement. 

The  harvest  in  France  of  the  Italian  sonnet — often  a  literal 
translation  from  the  Italian— was  boundless.  The  three  most 
prolific  members  of  the  Pleiade — Ronsard,  Du  Bellay,  and 
Baif— are  reckoned  to  have  penned  together  3,516  poems, 
of  which  1 ,686  are  sonnets  : 

Graves  sonnets  que  la  docte  Italic 
A  pour  les  siens  la  premiere  enfantes. 

/      ^  Most   of  the   new  technical  terms  of  the  poetic  art,  e.g.  lyriqiie, 

/  t'piqi/e,  and   ode,  come   direct  from   the  Greek  ;    some   come  from   the 

/    Greek  through  the  Itahan,  e.g.  iragcdic,  conicdie\   while  others  are  of 

/     direct  Italian  parentage,  e.g.  stnitief,  madrigal,  sttwce;  but  Greek  nomen- 

l      clature  predominates. 


THE  FRENCH  BATTLE  OF  THE  METRES  203  -7^'^ 

Ronsard  easily  leads  with  709  sonnets  out  of  a  total  of  i  ,396 
poems.^ 

It  was  one  of  the  principles  of  the  school  to  avoid  popular 
metrical  devices  of  bygone  h^rance.  Yet  their  broad  con- 
ceptions of  art  led  them  involuntarily  to  adapt  to  their 
purpose  some  veteran  metrical  fashions.  While  they  rejected 
the  rondeau  and  the  ballade,  they  proved  themselves  sus- 
ceptible to  the  influence  of  the  past  by  the  invention  on  an 
old  pattern  of  the  villanelle,  or  rustic  song,  which  depends  for 
its  charm  on  the  refrain.  They  revived,  too,  the  more  ancient 
Alexandrine  and  gave  it  a  new  cadence  and  pliancy.  One  of 
the  band,  Jodelle,  was  the  first  to  employ  the  Alexandrine  in 
tragedy, and  he  it  was  who  made  the  hexameter  for  all  time  the 
•staadard_type^f  dramatic  verse  in  France.  But  it  was  in  song, 
ode,  and  sonnet  that  the  Pleiade  wrought  its  main  triumphs.   J 

Never  before  was  there  such  mingling  of  metrical  strains. 
The  keynotes  were  struck  by  Greece  and  modern  Italy, 
and  in  the  revolutionary  ardour  of  classical  zeal,  Baif,  a  chief 
member  of  the  band,  took  a  metrical  step  in  a  wrongchrection, 
which  is  worth  notice  as  an  indication  of  a  danger  threatening 
the  new  movement.  Baif  urged  by  precept  and  practice  an 
innovation  which  seemed  for  the  moment  likely  to  lead  the 
reforming  movement  to  disaster.     He  sought  to  revive  the  ;  ^' 

f|^a4atifqj^xg  rhyrne1p^s,Jii£.tre  ofj^^tinpoetry,  with  its  short 
and  long  syllables,  its  spondees  and  dactyls,  its  iambs  and 
anapaests,  its  hexameters  and  elegiacs,  its  sapphics  and  its 
alcaics.  He  condemned  alike  rhyme  and  accent- — the  principles 
which  had  hitherto  held  undisputed  sway  over  French  verse. 
He  would  set  in  their  place  the  unrhymed  '  quantity  '  of  ve7-s 
.inesnrcs.     With  unflinching  thoroughness  Baif  preached'tfie' 

^  Although  Ronsard  is  entitled  to  the  invention  of  the  Theban  ode, 
Du  Bellay  of  Angers  was  never  willing  to  forgo  his  right  to  the  sonnet : 

Par  moy  les  Graces  divines 

Ont  fait  sonner  assez  bien 
Sur  les  rives  Angevines, 

Le  sonnet  I  tali  en. 

A  disciple,  Vauquelin  {^Divers  Scmnets,  3),  addressed  Du  Bellay  thus: 

Ce  fut  toy,  Du  Bellay,  qui  des  premiers  en  France 
D'ltalie  attiras  les  Sonets  amoureux. 


.V^- 


204  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

classicization  of  French  prosody  as  well  as  of  French  style.^ 
But  his  experiments  proved  the  shallowness  of  his  argument. 
His  hexameters  and  unrhymed  anacreontics  were  openly 
scorned,  and  with  reluctance  Baif  returned  to  the  beaten 
track.     Ultimately  he  followed  a  friendly  critic's  advice  : 

Baif,  suis  le  chemin  que  chacun  va, 
Car  tu  ne  verras  point  reussir  I'emprise  de  ton  temps. 

The  classical  prosodistswere  slow  to  quit  the  field.  They  came 
to  concentrate  their  artillery  on  rhyme,  and  urged  that  rhyme 
should  be  banished.  BaiTargued  that  musical  accompaniment 
was  the  needful  complement  of  vers  mesiires^  which  ought  to 
be  sung  and  not  spoken.  To  prove  his  allegation  to  be  prac- 
ticable, he  founded  in  Paris,  wittlvqj^l.sapc^on,  and  under  the 
auspices  of  the  University  of  Paris,  an  acaderny  in  which  un^ 
rhymed  quantitative  verse  should  be  fitted  by  musicaTcoRlposers 
with  appropriate  musical  notation.  The  professed  ainrWa.s^~de 
renouveler  I'ancienne  fa^on  de  composer  des  vers  mesures  pour 
y  accommoder  le  chant  pareillement  mesure  selon  Tart  metrique '. 
The  effort  made  no  real  advance.  Disciples  of  Baif  modified 
the  tactics  of  the  campaign  and  belied  their  main  principles 

'  by  adding  rhyme  to  the  vers  mesiircs.  Rhymed  hexameters, 
rhymed  elegiacs,  and  rhymed  sapphics  found  a  more  charitable 
reception  than  those  measures  without  rhyme.  '  The  French 
honey  '  of  rhyme  sweetened  the  classical  pill  of  quantity.  But 
there  was  no  relish  of  salvation  in  the  mixture,  and  after  a 
brief  trial  it  was  dismissed,  to  join  in  oblivion  the  experiments 

I  which   preceded    it.     The  sharp  controversy  was,  we    shall 

!find,  loudly  echoed  in  Elizabethan  England.  The  danger  to 
which  Bai'f  exposed  the  new  poetic  development  in  France 
darkened  the  dawn  of  Ehzabethan  literature.  In  both 
countries  tabulae  solviiniiir  risit,^  and  the  perils  of  classical 

>  prosody  were  averted  by  force  of  ridicule. 
/  Apart  from  metrical  innovation  the  Pleiade  sought  to  realize 


'  For  a  good  summary  of  the  history  of  Ba'if's  experiments  see  Kastner's 
Histo7-y  of  French  Versijicatuvt,  Oxford,  1903,  pp.  295-30S,  and  Poesies 
choisies  de  J.-A.  de  Baif,  ed.  L.  Becq.  de  Fouqui^res,  1S74,  pp.  xv  sq. 


THE  CLASSICIZED  VOCABULARY         205 

its  reforming  aim  by  differentiating  the  phraseology  of  French 
poetry  from  that  of  French  prose.  With  that  end  in  view- 
new  words  were  invented  or  were  imported  from  foreign 
languages.  From  Greek  they  freely  borrowed  a  large  voca- 
bulary. Some  pure  Greek  words  took  permanent  root  in 
France,  e.g.  utathcuiatiqiie^  sympathies  and  pairic.  Others 
which  were  as  deliberately  imported  were  wisely  given  short 
shrift,  e.g.  entdt^chie — the  Aristotelian  word  for  'innate  perfec- 
tion '}  Later,  Ronsard  and  his  disciples  grew  sensible  of  the 
need  of  restricting  the  employment  by  French  poets  of  Greek 
words,  and  w^ere  sparing  of  the  practice. 

A  second  mode  of  creating  a  distinctly  poetic  vocabulary 
was  to  naturalize  the  terminology  of  Greek  and  Latin  myth. 
With  hands  of  unprecedented  liberality  the  poets  of  the  Pleiade 
scattered  over  the  poetic  page  names  of  heroes,  heroines,  and 
places  of  classical  mythology  or  mythical  history  and  freely 
derived  epithets  from  them.  Natural  phenomena  were  described 
as  the  actions  of  god  or  goddess.  The  rising  and  setting  of 
the  sun  was  associated  with  fifty  adventures  of  Phoebus  or 
Phaeton.  Seas  and  rivers,  woods  and  gardens,  hills  and 
fountains  were  presented  as  the  abodes  of  nymphs.  The  titles 
of  Homeric  warriors  were  cited  as  synonyms  of  manly  virtue. 
The  French  poets'  earth,  heaven,  and  hell  were  peopled  with 
great  Greeks  or  Latins,  human  or  divine,  and  were  credited 
with  the  mythic  attributes  of  classical  tradition. 

In  original  method  of  word-composition  the  Pleiade  under 
Ronsard's  leadership  distinguished  itself  mainly  by  its  fertility 

^  It  is  usual  to  cite  as  an  example  of  Ronsard's  extravagant  employ- 
ment of  Cireek  words  his  lines  embodying  the  strange  expressions '  ocymore ', 
'  dispotme', '  oligochronien  ',  &c.  In  his  famous  elegy  on  Queen  Margaret 
of  Navarre  {Lc  toinbeau  de  Marguerite  de  Frafice),  which  belongs  to  the 
poet's  early  years,  he  wrote — 

Ah  !    que  je  suis  marry  [grieved]  que  la  Muse  Francjoise 

Ne  pent  dire  ces  mots  comme  fait  la  Gregeoise  : 

Ocymore,  dispotme,  oligochronien ; 

Certes  je  les  dirois  du  sang  Valesien, 

C2ui  de  beaute,  de  grace  et  de  lustre  ressemble 

Au  lys  qui  naist,  fleurit  et  se  meurt  tout  ensemble. 

Ronsard  cites  these  three  words  as  examples  of  Greek  which  are  beyond 
his  skill  to  Gallicize  {CEuvres,  vii.  178). 


2o6  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

lin  inventint^  diminutives,  and  by  its  creation  of  compound  epi- 
jthets.  The  plenteous  employment  of  diminutives  reinforced 
the  impression  of  delicacy,  which  the  French  reformers  of 
poetry  highly  valued,  but  diminutives  had  been  used  already, 
if  in  modest  measure,  by  Ronsard's  precursors.  Their  employ- 
I  ment  by  the  Pleiade  was  largely  a  revival  or  an  expansion  of 
a  pre-existing  habit.  The  second  device  of  compound  epithets 
was  new  to  modern  poetry  and  exerted  a  worldwide  influence. 
There  is  nothing  in  old  French  poetry  with  which  compari- 
son is  possible.  Ronsard  personally  claimed  the  sole  glory 
of  the  innovation  which  his  disciples  developed  with  grotesque 
extravagance.  Ronsard's  [vocables  comgosez ',  by  which  he 
set  infinite  store,  were  only  remoleTy  framed  on  the  Homeric 
pattern.  This  final  embellishment  of  poetic  speech  he  vaunted 
as  a  triumph,  which  entitled  him  to  no  ordinary  gratitude  from 
his  country.^  It  is  capable  of  proof  that  Elizabethan  poetry 
is  hardly  less  indebted  to  him  for  this  usage  than  the  poetry 
of  sixteenth-century  France. 

VI 

The  Hp:irs  of  the  Pleiade 

The  six  active  members  of  the  Pleiade — Ronsard,  Du  Bellay, 
Baif,  Tyard,  Jodelle,  and  Belleau — were  not  only  most  prolific 
poets,  but  all  quickly  gathered  about  them  a  host  of  disciples 
who  shared  in  varying  degrees  their  qualities,  and  made  all 
France,  to  the  end  of  the  century,  a  nest  of  singing-birds. 
The  note  of  melody  grew  thinner  with  the  advancing  years. 
But  the  music  did  not  altogether  fail.  Italian  influences 
tended  as  the  years  sped  to  rival  and  outstrip  the  Greek ;  pedan- 
tic conceits  and  affectations  grew.      Yet  the  lyric  charm  died 

^  Cf.  LEu7')-es,\\\.  127  : 

Indonte  du  labeur,  je  travaillay  pour  elle  [i.e.  France], 

Je  fis  des  mots  nouveaux,  je  r'appelay  les  vieux, 

Si  bien  que  son  renom  je  poussay  jusq'aux  cieux. 

Je  fis,  d'autre  fagon  que  n'avoient  les  antiques, 

Vocables  coniposez.,  et  phrases  poiitiques, 

Et  mis  la  poesie  en  tel  ordre,  qu'apres 

Le  Francois  fut  egal  aux  Romains  et  aux  Grecs. 


RONSARirS  PUPILS  207 

hard.  The  generation  of  French  poets  who  were  busiest 
in  the  first  working-  days  of  Daniel  and  Drayton,  of  Chapman 
and  Shakespeare,  included  in  the  rank  and  file  men  like 
Vauquelin  de  la  Fresnaie,  Jean  Passerat,  and  Gilles  Durant.  ) 
It  was  Vauquelin  who  invoked  Phillis,  in  an  almost  endless 
flow  of  tuneful  song  on  such  a  pattern  as  this : 

I'jitre  les  fleurs,  entre  les  lis, 
Doucement  dormoit  ma  Philis. 

Gilles  Durant  struck  many  a  simple  note  in  the  melodious 
key  of  his  address  to  the  souci,  or  marigold,  which  he  prefers 
to  violet,  pink,  pansy,  or  rose  : 

Jaime  la  belle  violette, 
L'oeillet  et  la  pensee  aussi, 
J'aime  la  rose  vermeillette, 
Mais  surtout  j'aime  la  souci. 

Few  poets  counselled  youth  more  musically  to  snatch  the 
pleasures  of  the  hour  than  Jean  Passerat  in  his  ode  to  May 
Day — '  du  Premier  Jour  de  May  ' : 

Laissons  ce  regret  et  ce  pleur 

A  la  vieillesse ; 
Jeunes,  il  faut  cueillir  la  fleur 

De  lajeunesse. 
Or  que  le  ciel  est  le  plus  gay 
En  ce  gracieux  mois  de  May, 

Aimons,  Mignonne  ; 
Contentons  nostre  ardent  desir  ; 
En  ce  monde  n'a  du  plaisir 

Qui  ne  sen  donne. 

It  is  not  easy  to  match  in  lightness  of  touch  Jean  de  la 
Taille's  reproach  of  the  damsel  who  scorns  love  : 

Elle  est  comme  la  rose  franche 

Qu'un  jeune  pasteur,  par  oubly 

Laisse  flestrir  dessus  la  branche 

Sans  se  parer  d'elle  au  dimanche. 

Sans  jouir  du  bouton  cueilly. 

The  Pleiade  movement  only  drew  its  last  melodious  breath 
on  crossing  the  threshold  of  the  seventeenth  century.    Ronsard's 


2o8  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

mantle  of  chieftain  was  worn  on  his  death  by  a  fashionable 
ecclesiastic,  a  wealthy  pluralist,  a  kindly  patron  of  poor  men  of 
letters,  Philippe  Desportes,  who  was  born  in  1545.  His  life 
ended  in  1606,  a  year  which  Drayton,  Chapman,  and  Dekker 
made  memorable  in  England  by  exceptional  activity.  He 
echoed  Ronsard's  voice  in  a  somewhat  halting  key,  and  was 
^teeped  in  contemporary  Italian  influences.  His  abundant 
lyrics,  elegies,  satires,  and  pious  verse  all  stood  high  in 
/public  esteem.  To  the  vogue  of  the  sonnet  he  paid  con- 
spicuous tribute  ;  four  hundred  and  forty-three  of  his  seven 
hundred  and  eighty-one  poems  are  quatorzains.  He  caught 
the  sonneteering  note  of  the  bastard  followers  of  Petrarch 
while  on  a  visit  to  Italy  in  youth,  and  he  never  freed  himself 
of  the  genre  s  debased  affectations.  He  often  relied  on  a  silent 
process  of  direct  translation  from  his  Italian  masters,  and 
sincerity  is  usually  lacking  to  his  sentiment.  His  ceaseless  pro- 
testations of  all-absorbing  love—'  Douce  est  la  mort  qui  vient 
en  bien  amant ' — are  apt  to  weary.  But  he  was  a  good  crafts- 
man, and  could,  in  his  love-songs,  mingle  on  occasion  a  light 
touch  of  pathos,  with  a  little  piquant  raillery.  The  faithless 
Rozette,  in  spite  of  vows  renewed  amid  tears  at  every 
leave-taking,  has  yielded  to  a  new  admirer.  The  jilted 
poet  tells  her  that  he  has  consoled  himself  with  a  new  mis- 
tress, but  he  ends  each  of  the  valedictory  verses  with  the 
half-jesting,  half-tearful  refrain — 

Nous  verrons,  volage  Bergere, 
Qui  premier  sen  repentira. 

Towards  the  close  of  Desportes'  career,  the  tradition  of  the 
Pleiade  was  maintained  by  another  clerical  poet,  Jean  Bertaut, 
who  ended  his  career  as  bishop  of  Seez  at  the  age  of597in^ 
161 1.  In  Bertaut  the  lyric  fervour  of  song  and  sonnet  is 
colder  than  in  Desportes ;  his  vows  of  gallantry  and  his  regrets 
foi  youth's  passage  tend  to  more  conventional  conceits,  and 
the  sacred  topics,  to  which  he  devoted  his  later  years,  are  treated 
on  lines  which  sacrifice  charm  to  orthodoxy.  Yet  his  metrical 
dexterity  is  great ;  he  handles  the  ///  Memoriaiii  stanza  with 
exceptional  effect : 


DESPORTES  AND  BERTAUT  20c; 

Pourqiioy  voudroy-je  encor  d'lin  idolatrc  homniage 
Sacrificr  ma  vie  aux  rigueurs  de  son  ceil, 
Et  par  un  lache  espoir  de  flechir  son  orgueil, 

Perdant  la  liberie,  perdre  aussi  le  courage  ?  ^ 

There  are,  too,  touches  of  feeling  in  the  more  familiar  poem 
beginning — 

Eelicite  passee 

Qui  ne  peux  revenir 

In  lines  like  these  there  is  ethical  insight — 

La  crainte  de  perdre  une  chose  si  chere 

Fait  que  je  ne  sens  point  I'heur  de  la  posseder. 

But  the  inspiration  seems  more  often  on  the  point  of  exhaus- 
tion.    With  Bertaut's  death,  in  161 1,  the  era  of  the  Renaissance 
lyric  may  be  said  to  terminate  in  France.     In  the  same  year 
Shakespeare  retired  from  the  active  exercise  of  his  profession. 
Bertaut,  like  Desportes,  boasted  of  discipleship  to  Ronsard 
and  the  Pleiade,  and  both  lived  long  enough  to  witness  signs  of 
reaction  against  the  leading  principles  of  that  great  school.  The 
idolatry  of  Greece  and  Italy,  which  was  a  main  creed  of  the  I 
Pleiade  faith,  awoke  in  due  time  a  patriotic  revulsion  of  feeling.  ' 
The    great    scholar,   Henri   Etienne,  in  La    Preccllcjice  du 
laiigage  fyaiicois^  first  raised   the   banner  of  revolt  with  a 
declaration  that  the  French  language  was  rich  enough  to  pass 
current  without  foreign  alloy.    The  cry  against  alien  influences 
gathered  force  early  in  the  seventeenth  century,  and  the  Pleiade 
was  at  length  convicted  by  public  opinion  of  worshipping  false 
gods.    But  the  school  had  done  its  work  ;  it  had  cradled  a  new 
conception   of  lyric  theme ;  it   had  created  a  new  standard 
of  poetic  vocabulary  and,  above  all,  a  new  temper  of  poetic 
melody.    Malherbe,  the  next  ruler  of  the  French  Parnassus, 
repudiated^^lvlthr~vehemence  the  authority  of  the  Pleiade  and'^j 
heaped  impatient  scorn  on  its  mythological  imagery  and  its  | 
classical   terminology.      Yet  the  new  master,  in   his   search  ' 
after  a  greater  simplicity  and  regularity,  was  largely    influ- 
enced by  the  aesthetic  ideals  and  ambitions  of  those  whose 
fame  he  sought  to  displace.     Much  truth  lurks,  too,  in  the 

*  (Euvres poetiqiies,  Paris,  i8gi,  p.  326. 

LEE  P 


2  10  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

epigram  entitled  (in  Boileau  s  phrase) '  Enfin  Malherbe  vint ',  by 
Banville,  the  romantic  leader  of  the  nineteenth  century  : 

Les  bons  rythmeurs  pris  d'une  frenesie, 
Comme  des  Dieux  gaspillaient  I'ambroisie 
Si  bien  qu'enfin,  pour  mettre  le  hola, 
Malherbe  vint,  et  que  la  Poesie, 
FvH  le  voyant  arriver,  s'en  alia. 


VII 

The  Pleiade  in  England 

Long  before  the  day  of  Malherbe,  the  voice  of  the  Pleiade 
in  all  its  variety — in  the  note  of  Desportes  and  Bertaut  as 
well  as  in  that  of  Ronsard  and  Du  Bellay— had  caught  the 
Elizabethan  ear.  As  soon  as  a  careful  inquiry  is  instituted,  there 
is  no  mistaking  the  amplitude  of  the  debt  which  Elizabethan 
England  owed  to  French  poetry  of  the  second  fifty  years 
of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  Pleiade  influence  is  visible  in 
Elizabethan  metre,  in  turns  of  phraseology,  in  sentiment,  in  idea. 
In  some  instances  the  influence  works  through  a  process  of 
adaptation  which  leaves  ample  room  for  the  independent 
activity  of  EHzabethan  individuality  or  idiosyncrasy.  In  other 
instances  it  works  through  a  process  of  translation  which  is 
for  the  most  part  unavowed  and  is  a  mysterious  feature  of 
the  inquiry. 

In  estimating  the  force  of  the  French  influence  on  the 
Elizabethan  lyric,  due  allowance  must  be  made  for  the  strength 
of  other  streams  which  fed  the  tide  of  song.  Elizabethan  poets 
often  studied  Greek,  Latin,  and  Italian  verse  at  first  hand, and  the 
debts  directly  due  to  Anacreon  and  Horace,  to  Petrarch  and 
Ariosto,  to  Guarini  and  Tasso  are  not  safely  neglected.  But 
these  writers  were  not  invariably  known  to  Ehzabethans  in  their 
original  language.  Much  classical  and  Italian  poetry  circu- 
lated in  England  more  freely  in  a  French  dress  than  in  its 
native  garb.  Doubt  is  at  times  inevitable  whether  Elizabe- 
than lyrics  which  assimilate  classical  or  Italian  fancy  are  to  be 
reckoned  among  vicarious  gifts  of  French  writers  or  among 
the  direct  donations  of  poets  of  more  distant  lands.     It  should 


( 


ELIZABETHAN  TRIBUTES  TO  THE  PLl^IADl!:  211 

be  admitted  that  the  Elizabethan  lyric  acquired  and  pre- 
served an  indigenous  flavour,  despite  its  eager  absorption  of 
foreign  sustenance  by  way  alike  of  adaptation  and  translation. 
The  harmony  lias  often,  at  any  rate  to  English  ears,  a  richer 
melody ;  the  fancy  presents  a  more  pointed  significance,  and 
the  thought  is  of  a  robuster  substance  than  the  foreign 
masters  seem  to  command.  Yet  a  comparative  study  pro- 
claims a  foreign  cue  for  a  vast  deal  of  the  blitheness,  music, 
and  fragrance  of  the  Elizabethan  lyric,  and  proves  the  foreign 
suggestion  to  be  more  often  of  French  than  of  classical  or  Italian 
origin.  The  inspiration  of  the  Pleiade  was  more  penetrating 
than  that  of  any  other  school,  and  it  left  on  English  song  a 
mark  which  was  more  lasting.  It  would  be  easy  to  trace  the 
Influence  of  the  Pleiade  far  beyond  the  Elizabethan  era.  The 
French  airs  are  echoed  in  the  poetry  of  Wither  and  Herrick  ; 
even  the  lyres  of  Charles  IPs  day  were  attuned  to  them.  Here 
we  do  not  carry  our  inquiry  beyond  the  close  of  the  sonneteer- 
ing vogue  in  Elizabethan  England,  which  synchronizes  with 
the  publication  of  Shakespeare's  sonnets  in  1609.  On  the 
Elizabethan  sonnet  French  influence  wrought  with  exceptional 
energy  and  a  very  evenly  sustained  strength. 

The  evidence  within  the  Ehzabethan  field  Is  voluminous, 
and  can  only  be  indicated  in  outline.  It  is  the  internal  proof 
which  comes  of  setting  Elizabethan  poems  at  the  side  of 
earlier  French  examples,  that  throws  full  light  on  the  situation. 
Less  can  be  gleaned  from  the  external  evidence  which  is  sup- 
plied by  Elizabethan  writers'  familiar  mention  of  the  work 
of  Ronsard,  Du  Bellay,  Desportes,  and  other  '  brave  wits ' 
of  the  Pleiade  army.  The  outward  marks  of  recognition 
are  important,  but  they  fail  to  indicate  the  completeness  of  the 
Elizabethan  discipleship. 

Ronsard  and  Du  Bellay  were  popular  names  in  England 
in  Shakespeare's  youth.  At  the  very  outset  of  the  Eliza- 
bethan activity  the  earliest  leader  of  the  great  poetic  movement, 
Edmund  Spenser,  hailed  Du  Bellay  as  \ 

First  garland  of  free  Poesie 

That  France  brought  forth,  though  fruitful  of  brave  wits, 
Well  worthy  thou  of  immortalitie. 

P  2 


212  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

/Thomas   Watson,   the  second   writer   of  verse  to  enter  the 

{    true    EHzabethan  fold,  was  adjured  by   an  admirer  to    note 

.'    how  the  French   tongue    was  garnering  the  wealth  of  Par- 

L    nassus  and  luxuriating  in  the  new  achievements  of  Ronsard.^ 

There   was   no    obscurity    in    the    hint    as   to   the    quarter 

whence    enlightenment  was   coming.      Popular   literature  of 

the  day  paid  its  tribute  to  the  French  Apollo.      In  1590,  in 

a  satiric  tract,  Tar Ito it's   Nezvs   out  of  P7irga/ory\  a  large 

company  of  poets  is  described  as  assembled  in  Purgatory  to 

hear  '  old  Ronsard ',  who   died   five   years   before,   recite   a 

description  of  his  mistress,  Cassandra,  one  of  the  heroines  of 

his  sonnets.      The  verses  which  are  set  on  the  French  poet's 

lips  are  intended  for  sarcasm.     But  they  ridicule  Ronsard's 

English   imitators   rather   than   the   French   poet.     In    1594 

/  Michael  ^Drayton  deplored  that  it  was  '  aJauk  too  eominon  in 

t  this  latter  time'  tCLiiilGh '  from  the  page  of  Desportes,  Ron- 

sard's  successor  on  the  throne  of  French  poetry.      In    1595 

a   patriotic  critic   who  was   desirous  of  protecting  his  own 

countrymen's  poetic  efforts  from  disparagement  argued  that 

'  France-remarked  Bellay  '  and  '  court-like  amorous  Ronsard  ' 

were  currently  overpraised.     But  this  note  was  not  repeated. 

A   year   later  Thomas  Lodge,  one  of  the  most  popular  of 

/  Elizabethan  lyrists  and  one    of  the  heaviest  debtors   to  the 

I  Pleiade,    penned   a   notable  tribute  to  Desportes,  Ronsard's 

^  heir.      Lodge   used   words,   of   which    the    full    significance 

will  appear  later :   '  Few  men  (he  wrote)  are  able  to  second 

the    sweet    conceits    of    Philip    Desportes,   whose     poetical 

writings   [are]  for  the  most  part  Englished,  and  ordinarily  in 

everybody's  hands.' ^     At  the  extreme  end  of  the  century, 

in  the  Cambridge  University  play,  the  Rctuniejram_^r- 

nasstis  (c.  1600),  an  amorous  youth  employs  a  friend  to  write 

sonnets  for  his  lady-love,  and  he  suggests  to  his  poetic  aide- 

j  de-camp   as  an  acceptable  pattern,  not  merely  the  verse  of 

',  Chaucer,  Spenser,  and  Shakespeare,  but  lines  from  Ronsard, 

of  which  he  offers  an  English  parody. 

^  Gallica  Parnasso  coepit  ditescere  lingua 

Ronsardique  operis  luxuriare  nouis. 

(Watson's  Hecatompathia,  15S2,  ed.  Arber,  p.  34.) 
^  Margivitc  of  America,  1 596. 


EARLY  TRANSLATIONS  OF  RONSARD   213 

Hut  suggestive  as  are  the  notices  of  the  work  of  Ronsard 
and  his  friends  in  Elizabethan  books,  no  adequate  testimony 
is  furnished  there  to  the  extent  of  the  French  influence  on 
the  lyric  fertility  of  Elizabethan  England.  The  relations 
between  the  two  schools  of  poetry  are  not  fully  discernible 
until  the  work  of  both  is  studied  word  by  word  in  conjunction. 
Clearly  inscribed  sign-posts  on  the  long  road  are  few.  Eliza- 
bethans rarely  made  open  confession  of  translation  from  the 
Pleiade.  Only  one  work  by  Ronsard  seems  to  have  been  pub-, 
lished  in  his  lifetime  in  an  English  version  with  a  quite  plain  and{ 
unequivocal  acknowledgement  that  it  was  a  translation.  Ron-| 
sard's  Discours  des  Aliseres  de  ce  temps  a  la  Royjie  mere  du 
Roy  was  issued  in  Paris  in  1562.  It  is  the  poet's  fervid  denun- 
ciation of  Calvin.  It  is  his  refutation  of  Huguenot  slanders, 
and  a  valuable  piece  of  autobiography  ;  although  penned 
with  a  convincing  eagerness  and  brilliant  volubility,  it  has 
indeed  more  personal  than  aesthetic  value.  Thomas  Jenye, 
a  Yorkshireman,  who  was  in  the  service  of  vSir  Henry  Norris, 
the  English  ambassador  in  Paris  from  1567  to  1 569,  turned 
Ronsard's  controversial  poem  into  English  verse  while  he  was 
at  the  Paris  embassy.  The  effort  was  published  at  Antwerp 
in  1568,  with  a  dedication  to  the  translator's  diplomatic  chief.^ 
Equally  halting  were  other  undisguised  tributes  of  the  kind 
which  were  paid  to  Ronsard.  Thomas  Watson,  the  popular 
contemporary  of  Spenser,  whose  muse  was  overweighted  by 
his  learning,  publicly  stated  that  four  of  his  hundred  poems 
of  passion  —  his  Hecatoiupathia — which  appeared  in  1582, 
adapted  specified  poems  of  Ronsard.  Two  years  later  a  veryj 
clumsy  practitioner  in  verse,  'John  Soothern,  Gentleman,'  in  a 
volume  which  he  christened  Pandora  :  the  Miisiqne  of  the 
BeazUie  of  his  Mistresse  Diana,  gave  in  discordant  doggerel, 
and  in  a  vocabulary  freely  strewn  with  French  words  and  idioms, 

^  Jenye's  book  bears  this  title  :  'A  Discours  of  the  Present  Troobles 
in  Fraunce,  and  Miseries  of  this  Tyme,  compyled  by  Peter  Ronsard 
Gentihiian  of  Vandome,  and  dedicated  unto  the  Quene  Mother.  Trans- 
lated into  English  by  Thomas  Jeney,  Gentilman.  Printed  at  Andwerpc. 
1568,  4to.'  Only  one  copy  seems  to  have  been  identified  in  modern  times. 
It  belonged  to  the  great  collector,  Richard  Heber,  and  its  present  where- 
abouts seem  unknown. 


214  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

a  series  of  sonnets,  odes  and  '  odelettes '  which  crudely  adapt 
Ronsard's  lyrics.  The  source,  though  imperfectly  admitted 
by  vSoothern,  was  generally  recognized  by  English  readers. 
None  could  doubt  that  Soothern's  clumsy  boast, 

Never  man  before 
Now  in  England  knew  Pindar's  string, 

was  a  mere  anglicization  of  Ronsard's  repeated  vaunt, 

Le  premier  de  France 
J'ai  Pindarise,' 

Z'  Ronsard's  chief  lieutenant,  Du  Bellay,  enjoyed  a  somewhat 
\  fuller  measure  of  open  acknowledgement.  In  1569,  a  year  after 
Jenye's  rendering  of  Ronsard  appeared, Edmund  Spenser,  while 
little  more  than  a  schoolboy,  issued  byway  of  a  first  poetic  ex- 
periment a  literal  translation  into  ugrhymed  jEnglish  verse  of 
some  fifteen  of  Du  Bellay 's  French  sonnets.  Du  Bellay  called 
these  sonnets,  which  freely  paraphrased_the^  Apocalypse. 
Songes  on  Visions  snr  Rome.  The  English  youtli  entitled 
his  rendering  T/ieLisions  of  Bellay.  Du  Bellay  remained 
one  of  Spenser's  acknowledged  poetic  heroes.     Twenty- two 

(years  later  the  English  poet  reissued  his  Visions  of  Bellay 
in  a  rhymed  revision,  and  added  to  them  a  sequence  of  thirty- 
two  soli  hetswhicH  were  drawn  from  the  same  French  treasury. 
The  Riiines  of  Rome,  by  Bellay,  are  a  literal  rendering  by 
Spenser  of  Du  Bellay 's  characteristically  pathetic  Antiqiiites 

y'^^'^  Piittenham,  in  The  Arte  of  English  Prvj/V  (1589),  writes  of  Soothern's 
j  effort  to  naturalize  Ronsard's  work  in  England  :  '  Another  [writer]  of 
■  reasonable  good  facilitie  in  translation  finding  certaine  of  the  hymnes 
of  Pvjidarus  and  of  Anacfeons  odes,  and  other  Lirickes  among  the 
Greekes  very  well  translated  by  Roiinsard,  the  French  poel,  and 
applied  to  the  honour  of  a  great  Prince  in  France,  comes  our  minion 
and  translates  the  same  out  of  French  into  English,  and  applieth  them 
to  the  honour  of  a  great  noble  man  in  England  (wherein  1  commend  his 
reuerent  minde  and  duetie)  but  doth  so  impudently  robbe  the  French 
Poet  both  of  his  prayse  and  also  of  his  French  termes,  that  I  cannot  so  much 
pitie  him  as  be  angry  with  him  for  his  iniurious  dealing,  our  sayd  maker 
not  being  ashamed  to  use  these  French  wordes  freddon,  egar-,  siiperboits. 
Jilanding,  celest,  calabrois,  tliebaiiois  and  a  numlaer  of  others,  for  English 
wordes,  which  haue  no  manor  of  conformitie  with  our  language  either  by 
custome  or  deriuation  which  may  make  them  tollerable.  And  in  the  end 
(which  is  worst  of  all)  makes  his  vaunt  that  neuer  English  singer  but  his 
hath  toucht  Phida?s  string  which  was  neuerthelesse  word  by  word  as 
Kounsard  had  said  before  by  like  braggery.'  (Puttenham,  ed.  Arbcr, 
1869,  pp.  259-60.)  The  words  which  follow  in  Puttenham's  text  are 
quoted  itifra  on  page  249. 


FORTUITOUS  COINCIDENCES  215 

de  Rome.     Spenser's  sole  original  embellishment  here  is  his 
'  envoy '  saluting  Bellay  as  the  earliest  of  the  new  wits  of 
France,  whose  glory  it  was  to  have  summoned  '  old  Rome  out 
of  her  ashes  ',  and  to  have  earned  for  himself  never-dying  fame'. 
Ronsard   excited    no  such   overt   demonstration    of  respect. 
Among  his  disciples,  only   the   Huguenot   poet    Du  Bartas, 
who  soon    seceded   from   the    Pleiade   ranks,  was  honoured 
by    Elizabethan    translators   with    a   frank   avowal   of  their  j 
obligation  to  his  work.    The  sole  English  volume  which  bore, 
Desportes'  name  on  its  tide-page  during  Shakespeare's  life- 1 
time  was  an  uncouth  English  translation  of  the  Frenchman's  I 
free  rendering  into  his  own  tongue  of  a  poem  by  Ariosto.^ 

The  genuine  influence  of  the  Pleiade  operated  more 
subtly.  Ehzabethan  poets  in  the  heyday  of  their  energy 
rarely  declared  in  the  market-place  their  debts  to  foreign 
masters.  The  main  obligations  of  Elizabethan  poets  are  to 
be  traced  in  poetry  which  they  offered  the  world  without  any 
hint  of  dependence  on  foreign  tuition. 

The  fact  that  poets  of  two  countries  write  at  much  the  same 
time  in  the  like  strain,  must  be  examined  in  many  lights  be- 
fore an  inference  of  affiliation  can  be  safely  deduced  from  it. 
Coincidence  in  the  expression  of  vague  universal  sentiments 
is  often  fortuitous.  Everybody  is  familiar  with  such  lines  as 
these  from  Horace : 

Omnes  eodem  cogimur :    omnium 
\'^ersatur  urna  serius  ocius 

Sors  exitura,  et  nos  in  aeternum 

Exsilium  impositura  cymbae.     {Odes.  ii.  3.  25-8.) 

or  his 

Pallida  mors  aequo  pulsat  pede  pauperum  tabernas 
Regumque  turres.  [Odes.,  i.  4.  14-15.) 

It  may  be  that  Horace  suggested  to  Ronsard  the  stanzas  which 
he  playfully  addressed  to  a  dead  lap-dog  named  Courte : 

'  The  English  translator  was  Clervase  Markham.  His  volume  Rodo- 
)/io?if/is  In/enia//,  licensed  for  the  press  in  1598,  was  published  in  1606. 
Desportes'  version  of  Ariosto,  which  Markham  '  paraphrastically  trans- 
lated', is  entitled  La  Mori  de  Rodomont  et  sa  descenie  aux  enfers. 


f 


2i6  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

Par  la  vallee 
Oil  tu  es,  Courte,  devalee, 
L'Empereur,  le  Pape  et  le  Roy, 
Marcheront  aussi  bien  que  toy. 
Car  telle  voye,  froide  et  brune, 
A  tous  les  peuples  est  couwnine^ 
D'ou  plus  jamais  on  ne  revient, 
Car  le  long  oubly  les  retient. 

(Ronsard,  Qiiivres^  ed.  Blanchemain,  vii.  252.) 

Aoain  Ronsard  wrote  in  much  the  same  vein  : 

o 

La  Mort,  frappant  de  son  dard, 

N'a  egard 
A  la  majeste  royale ; 
Les  empereurs  aux  bouviers, 

Aux  leviers 
Les  grands  sceptres  elle  egale.        {ibid.y  ii.  192.) 
And  again  : 

Celuy  qui  est  mort  aujourd'huy 
Est  aussi  bien  mort  que  celuy 
Qui  mourut  au  jour  du  deluge. 
Autant  vaut  aller  le  premier 
Que  de  sejourner  le  dernier 
Devant  le  parquet  du  grand  juge. 

{Odes^  iii.  22  ;   CEuvi^es,  ii,  p.  2-x,6.) 

At   many  turns  Shakespeare  recalls  the  language   of  both 

Horace  and  Ronsard : 

Thou  know'st  'tis  coniiuon ;    all  that  live  must  die, 
Passing  through  nature  to  eternity.  {Hamlet^  I.  ii.  72-3.) 

The  sceptre^  learning,  physic,  must 
All  follow  this,  and  come  to  dust. 

{Cynibeline^  IV.  ii.  268-9.} 

It  seems  to  me  most  strange  that  men  should  fear, 

Seeing  that  death,  a  necessary  end, 

Will  come,  when  it  will  come.     (////.  Caes.  II.  ii.  35-7.) 

Yet  the  English  poet  may  well  have  reached  these  general 
assurances,  for  all  their  kinship  to  those  of  Horace  and 
Ronsard,  by  way  of  his  own  intuition. 

There  must  be  a  more  definite  measure  of  identity  between 
languageand  sentiment,  there  must  be  coincidence  of  more  pecu- 
liarly distinctive  thought,  before  any  conclusion  of  indebted- 


EXTENT  OF  THl^.  ELIZABETHAN  DEBT      217 

ness  on  the  part  of  one  writer  of  genius  to  another  could  win 
acceptance.  But  the  bonds  of  thought  and  style  which  link 
numerous  lyricsof  the  IHizabethans  with  those  of  the  Pleiade  and 
its  disciples  are  positive  and  unquestionable.  The  lilizabethans' 
proved  familiarity  with  the  French  language,  and  their  acquisi- 
tive tendencies,  constantly  proclaim  coincidences  between  dis- 
tinctive idea  and  expression  in  ]{lizabethan  and  contemporary 
F'rench  poetry  to  be  direct  debts  on  the  part  of  F^lizabethans  to 
the  FVench  poets. 

VIII 

The  Elizabethan  Rendering  of  French  Lyric  Themes 

The  Pleiade  influence  on  Elizabethan  metre  and  vocabulary 
will  demand  close  study,  but  the  coincidence  of  theme  and 
sentiment  is  the  most  fascinating  feature  of  the  story  and  claims 
preliminary  notice.'  The  evidence  is  of  embarrassing  wealth, 
and  clearly  establishes  the  substantial  measure  of  the  debt 
which  the  lilizabethans  incurred  to  the  poetry  of  the  French 
Renaissance.  The  degrees  of  kinship  which  link  the  Elizabethan 
lyric  with  preceding  efforts  of  France  are  varied.  They  will 
be  seen  to  range  from  acceptance  of  suggestion  to  literal  trans- 
lation. Each  degree  of  relationship  is  capable  of  liberal  illus- 
tration. The  claims  of  Elizabethan  originality  are  not  seriously 
in  question.  The  process  of  borrowing  went  hand  in  hand 
with  abundant  exercise  of  creative  power,  and  the  borrowed 
thought  or  phrase  sometimes  underwent  a  subtle  mutation 
which  bore  witness  to  independent  inventiveness  and  ingenuity. 
But  no  F^lizabethan  poet  seems  to  have  altogether  escaped  the 
contagion  of  F^rench  influence.  Little  doubt  is  possible  that 
Shakespeare  himself  at  times  accepted  the  suggestion  of 
the  French  lyric,  while  Elizabethan  stars  of  less  magnitude 
drew  floods  of  light  from  the  French  constellation  of  the 
Pleiade. 

The  songs  of  Anacreon  and  the  Greek  anthologists,  the 
idylls  of  Theocritus  and  his  school,  supplied  the  threads  of 

*  Consideration  of  the  relation  of  the  French  and  English  sonnet  is 
postponed  to  section  XII  of  this  Book. 


21  8  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

which  many  Elizabethan  lyrics  were  woven.  Conceits  of  the 
Greek  lyric  streaked  Elizabethan  poetry  almost  as  richly  as 
the  verse  of  the  French  Renaissance.  But  the  Greek  imagery  is 
very  often  a  direct  reflection  of  the  Pleiade  temper.  FVench 
adaptation  of  Greek  lyric  or  idyll  is  frequently  the  imme- 
diate source  of  the  Elizabethan  inspiration.  The  Greek 
sentiment  is  not  seldom  expanded  or  diversified  by  the 
Elizabethan  adapter.  Yet  signs  of  dependence  on  F" ranee  lie 
as  a  rule  near  the  surface.  Hellenist  fancies  which  find  a 
place  in  Elizabethan  lyrics  are  usually  more  closely  allied 
with  the  F"rench  texts  than  with  the  original  Greek. 

Lyly  may  be  reckoned  the  earUest  and  one  of  the  most 
original  of  English  workers  in  Anacreontics.  His  musical  songs 
celebrate  Daphne's  brow,  Pan's  pipe,  Apollo's  lyre,  Bacchus 's 
revels,  or  Cupid's  tricks.  In  his  adaptations  of  the  Greek 
conceits  Lyly  preserved  his  independence.  He  manipulated 
with  freedom  the  classical  themes.  No  precise  Greek  original 
can  be  assigned  to  his  song  of  Cupid  and  Cavipaspe^  in 
w^hich  Cupid  makes  a  wager  with  Campaspe  and  loses  to  her 
all  his  weapons  of  offence.  It  is  significant  that  the  main 
topic  was  very  recently  anticipated  in  a  sonnet  of  Desportes 
{Diane^  I.  XV),  where  Cupid  bets  away  his  bow  in  a  contest  with 
'  Diane  et  ma  maitresse  '.  Although  the  fancy  is  developed 
differently  in  the  FYench  and  is  less  epigrammatic,  Desportes' 
words,  '  Amour  gaigea  son  arc .  .  .  Las !  ma  dame  gaigne,' 
adumbrate  Lyly's  words  (of  Cupid) :  '  He  stakes  his  quiver, 
bow  and  arrows  .  .  .  She  won.'  Again,  Lyly's  baccha- 
nalian chants  although  they  may  owe  something  to  Horace, 
fuse,  with  admirable  spirit,  Elizabethan  feeling  and  the  Greek 
sentiment  of  the  Pleiade.     Lyly's 

16  Bacchus !    To  thy  table 

Thou  callest  every  drunken  rabble  .  .  . 

\\'ine,  O  wine ! 

O  juice  divine !  .  .  . 
O  the  dear  blood  of  grapes 
Turns  us  to  antic  shapes. 

was  tlie  oft-heard  cry  of  Ronsards  frolic  muse  when  apo- 
strophizing the  god  of  wine  in  his  Chan/  de  folie  : 


LYLY'S  ANACREONTICS  219 

Ta  furcLir  me  jette 

Hors  de  moy. 
Je  te  voy,  je  te  voy, 
\^oy-te-cy, 
Romp-soucy  ! 
Mon  coeur,  bouillonnant  dune  rag"e, 
En-vole  vers  toy  mon  coura5j;-e. 
Je  forcene,  je  demoniacle  ; 
L'horrihle  vent  de  ton  oracle 
J'entens  ;  Tesprit  de  ce  bon  vin  nouveau 
Me  tempeste  le  cerveau, 
lach,  lach,  Evoe, 
Evoe,  lach,  Tach  !  ^ 

Again,  Moschus's  famous  idyll  of  '  The  Hue  and  Cry  after 
Cupid  '  was  turned  into  French  many  times  l^efore  Lyly's 
era  of  activity.  Amour  Fiiitif\'s>  the  title  of  two  most  popular 
French  adaptations  of  the  Greek  idyll  (by  Baif  and  Amadis 
Jamyn  respectively).  The  French  I'enderings  gave  the  Greek 
poem  its  Elizabethan  vogue.  Lyly's  song  of  Cupid  Bound 
wears  much  new  raiment,  in  which  French  tones  mingle  with 
Greek.  Here  and  elsewhere  Lyly  foreshadows  future  Eliza- ^ 
bethan  developments.  A  few  years  later  Ben  Jonson  re- 
handled  Moschus's  theme  to  splendid  effect  in  his  beautiful 
lyric  of  Venus' s  Runaway.  There  Ben  finally  naturalized 
the  French  poets'  AniouJ''  Ftiitif  among  Shakespeare's 
contemporaries. 

Spenser  shows  like  signs  of  sympathy  with  that  Greek 
lyric  vein  which  French  poetry  absorbed.  There  is  a  charming 
trifle  by  him  in  six  ten-lined  stanzas  which  under  the  generic 
designation  of  '  epigram '  amplifies  the  Anacreontic  fable  of 
Cupid  and  the  bee.  The  boy-god,  according  to  the  Greek 
poem,  is  stung  by  the  bee,  and  in  tears  complains  to  his 
mother.     A^enus,  while  curing  the  wound,  draws  the  moral 

'  Ronsard's  CEuvrcs,  vi,  p.  380.     Cf.  QLir,'>rs,  ii,  p.  471  — 
Voy-le-ci,  je  le  sen  venir, 
Et  mon  cocur  estonne  ne  pent 

Sa  grand'  divinite  tenir, 
Tant  elle  I'agite  et  I'esmeut. 

Lyly's  'Cupid,  monarch  over  kings'  opens  with  Anacreontic  blitheness 
on  the  note  of  Desportes'  chanson  {Qiicvres,  ed.  Michiels,  p.  107)  — 

Amour,  grand  vainqueur  des  vainqueurs, 

Et  la  Beaute,  royne  des  cacurs. 


2  20  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

that  the  pain  is  small  compared  with  the  griefs  habitually 
caused  the  human  heart  by  the  infant  god  of  love.  At  least 
six  French  renderings  of  the  slight  theme,  more  or  less 
paraphrastic,  were  published  in  France  before  1573.  The 
most  graceful  rendering  is  by  Ronsard.  Spenser,  while  he 
adds  touches  of  his  own,  accepts  some  developments  of  French 
ingenuity.  His  version  approaches  far  more  closely  to  that 
of  Ronsard  or  Ba'if  than  to  Anacreon's  original  Greek.  There 
is  little  doubt  that  he  wrote  under  French  rather  than  Greek 
inspiration.  There  is  nothing  in  Anacreon  to  suggest  Spenser's 
laughter  of  \''enus,  '  who  could  not  choose  but  laugh  at  his 
[i.  e.  her  son's]  fond  game.'  That  is  one  of  the  trifles  in  which 
Baif  and  Ronsard  anticipated  vSpenser.  When,  too,  Spenser 
makes  Cupid  call  the  bee  a  '  fly  '  he  doubtless  has  in  mind  the 
French  poet's  expression,  '  moiiche  amiel,'  i.e.  the  honey-bee. 
Of  Shakespeare's  Anacreontic  adaptations  probably  the 
most  striking  example  is  met  with  in  Tiinon  of  At  hois  (IV. 
iii.  442-8),  where  the  dramatist  wrote  : 

The  sun  's  a  thief,  and  with  his  great  attraction 
Robs  the  vast  sea ;    the  moon  's  an  arrant  thief, 
And  her  pale  fire  she  snatches  from  the  sun  : 
The  sea  's  a  thief,  whose  liquid  surge  resolves 
The  moon  into  salt  tears  :   the  earth  's  a  thief. 
That  feeds  and  breeds  by  a  composture  stol'n 
From  general  excrement :    each  thing  "s  a  thief. 

Here  Shakespeare  handled  in  his  own  manner  a  famous 
Anacreontic  ode  in  its  French  form.  The  Greek  verse  draws 
a  natural  justification  for  drinking  from  the  fact  that  heavenly 
and  earthly  bodies  reciprocally  seek  liquid  sustenance.  The 
fancy  was  thoroughly  acclimatized  by  the  Renaissance  in  France, 
and  the  Anacreontic  poem  was  popular  in  independent  versions 
of  Ronsard  and  Remy  Belleau.    Ronsard's  version  opens  thus  : 

La  terre  les  eaux  va  boivant, 

L'arbre  la  boit  par  sa  racine, 
La  mer  eparse  boit  le  vent, 

Ft  le  soleil  boit  la  marine; 
Le  soleil  est  beu  de  la  lune : 
Tout  boit,  soit  en  haut  ou  en  bas.' 

'  (Eiivres,  ed.  Blanchemain,  ii.  286. 


RONSARD'S   VENUS  AND  ADONIS         221 

Shakespeare  invests  the  suq;g-cstion  of  the  reciprocal  relations 
of  sun,  moon,  and  ocean  with  a  poetic  luxuriance  which 
was  peculiar  to  his  genius.  There  is  a  new  purpose 
in  Shakespeare's  use  of  the  imagery.  But  as  soon  as  the 
French  and  h^nglish  lines  are  studied  side  by  side  their  kinship 
becomes  unmistakable. 

The  study  of  Ovid,  chiefly  in  Golding's  translation,  is  a 
main  source  of  Elizabethan  knowledge  of  classical  mythology. 
But  contemporary  French  feeling  would  seem  to  have  largely 
stimulated  the  classical  sympathies  of  the  Elizabethan  lyrists, 
and  their  mythological  touches  constantly  pursue  distinctive 
hints  of  the  Pleiade.  It  does  not  seem  to  have  been  noticed 
that,  in  the  year  of  Shakespeare's  birth,  Ronsard  anticipated 
Shakespeare's  poetic  version  of  the  Ovidian  story  of  Venus 
and  Adonis.  The  evidence  of  literal  borrowing  on  Shake- 
speare's part  from  Ronsards  poem  on  the  subject  may  not 
go  far.  Ronsard's  Verms  and  Adonis  has  a  more  pro- 
nounced mythological  setting  than  Shakespeare's  work.^ 
Yet  Shakespeare's  descriptive  imagery  is  often  of  Ronsardian 
temper.  When  Shakespeare's  goddess  tells  how  she  con- 
quered the  god  of  war,  '  leading  him  prisoner  in  a  red  rose 
chain,'  the  F^nglish  poet  echoes  a  familiar  line  in  one  of 
Ronsard's  Anacreontics."  In  the  pathetic  appeal  to  Adonis's 
hounds  and  to  Echo,  which  Shakespeare  sets  on  Venus's 
lips,  he  seems  to  follow  Ronsards  guidance.  The  fact  at  any 
rate  that  the  '  first  heir '  of  Shakespeare's  invention  should 
concern  itself  with  one  of  Ronsard's  themes,  and  should  bear 
resemblance  to  Ronsard's  treatment,  suggests  an  imaginative 
bond  which  might  well  develop  closer  relationship  later.-^ 

'  There  are  signs  that  both  the  French  and  English  poet  had  made 
some  independent  study  of  eadier  poetic  versions  of  the  fable  in  Italian. 
^  Cf.  Ronsard's  Q£uvrcs  (ed.  Blanchemain,  ii.  285)  — 

Les  Muses  licrent  un  jour 
De  chaines  de  roses  Amour. 

Ronsard's  poem  was  universally  popular,  and  had  already  been  cited  (in 
1582)  by  Watson  as  the  source  of  his  '  Passion  ',  Lxxxill. 

*  In  Ronsard's  poem  Mars's  jealous  anger  leads  the  God  of  War  to 
seek  Diana's  aid,  and  it  is  the  divine  huntress  who  contrives  Adonis's 
death  by  means  of  the  boar.  With  beautiful  etitect  Ronsard  again  and 
again  repeats  with  slight  modification  this  refrain  : 


222  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

Perhaps  the  most  remarkable  of  all  instances  of  identity 
of  flincy  between  Ronsard  and  the  great  English  dramatist 
finds  illustration  in  a  classical  outburst  of  wonderful  energy 
in  Shakespeare's  Antony  and  Cleopatra  (iv.  xii.  50-4).  In 
that  great  tragedy,  which  shows  vShakespeare's  power  at  its 
zenith,  Antony,  on  hearing  the  false  report  of  Cleopatra's 
/death,  exclaims  in  an  ecstasy  of  poetry,  of  which  Plutarch 
gives  no  hint,  that  he  will  be  her  companion  in  Hades : 

I  come,  my  queen  !    Stay  for  me  ; 

Where  souls  do  conch  on  floivers,  we'll  hand  in  hand, 

And  w^ith  our  sprightly  port  make  the  ghosts  gaze: 

Dido  and  her  Aeneas  shall  want  troops, 

And  all  the  haunt  be  ours. 

Nowhere  does  Shakespeare  strike  quite  so  vividly  Ronsard's 
precise  note.  In  his  impassioned  Chanson  III  the  French  poet 
had  already  greeted  his  mistress  Helene  in  the  identical  key. 
Together  he  and  his  beloved  Helene,  Ronsard  declares,  will 
pass  to  the  Elysian  fields  : 

La,  morts  de  trop  aimer,  sous  les  branches  myrtines 

Nous  verrons  tous  les  jours 
Les  anciens  Heros  aupres  des  Hero'ines 

Ne  parler  que  d'amours.^ 

All  the  divine  '  troop  '  of  past  lovers  ('  la  troupe  sainte  autre- 
fois amoureuse')  will  come  to  offer  greeting,  and  none  will  refuse 
to  quit  their  seats  for  the  new  comers,  who  will  '  couch  on 
flowers  '  in  midst  of  all : 

Ny  celles  qui  s'en  vont  toutes  tristes  ensemble, 

Artemise  et  Dido7i: 
Ny  ceste  belle  Grecque  a  qui  ta  beaute  semble, 

Comme  tu  fais  de  nom.- 


Helas,  pauvre  Adonis,  tous  les  Amours  te  pleurent, 
Toi  mourant  par  ta  mort,  toutes  deliccs  meurent. 
Ronsard's  poem  closes  in  a  key  which  echoes,  with  a  delightful  freshness, 
Pespritgaulois.  He  slyly  mentions  at  the  end  that  the  goddess  of  love, 
despite  her  wailing,  soon  set  her  heart  on  the  Phrygian  shepherd 
Anchises.  The  French  poet  takes  leave  of  the  theme  with  a  reflection 
that  women's  love,  like  April  flowers,  only  lives  a  day.  Shakespeare  is 
more  loyal  to  the  sentiment  of  the  myth. 

1  QLiivres,  ed.  lilanchemain,  i.  383. 

-  Konsard  is  addressmg  a  lady  named  after  Helen,  the  fair  Greek. 


THE  LANGUAGE  OF  FLOWERS  223 

Puis,  nous  fais ant  asseoir  dessns  r/icrbe  flciirie, 

De  toutes  au  milieu, 
Nulle  en  se  retirant  ne  sera  point  marrie^ 

De  nous  (juitter  son  lieu. 

Shakespeare  in  his  maturity  was  at  any  rate  faithful  to  the 
classical  sentiment  which  animated  the  poetry  of  the  French 
Renaissance. 

No  comparative  student  can  ignore  the  resemblance,  what- 
ever the  precise  deduction  to  be  drawn  from  it,  between  the 
buoyant  notes  with  which  both  Pleiade  and  Elizabethan 
schools  of  lyric  poetry  greeted  the  months  of  April  and  May 
and  the  floral  pageantry  of  spring  and  summer.  Chaucer 
had  caught  something  of  the  same  exuberance,  in  part  at 
least  from  French  lyres,  more  than  two  centuries  before.  But 
the  fresh  delight  of  Shakespeare  and  his  contemporaries  in 
the  painted  meadows  and  in  the  brilliant  colours  of  bud  and 
blossom  seems  to  proclaim  another  mark  of  afFmity  with 
Ronsard  and  his  disciples.  A  hundred  lines  or  stanzas  could 
be  quoted  from  the  French  poets  in  terms  such  as  these  : 

Avril,  I'honneur  des  pres  verts, 

Jaunes,  pers  (/.  e.  aznre)^ 
Qui  d'une  humeur  bigarree 
Emaillent  de  mille  fleurs 

De  couleurs 
Leur  parure  diapree.- 

It  was  of '  ce  mois  Avril '  that  Ronsard  wrote — • 

II  peint  les  bois,  les  forets  et  les  plaines  ^ 

with  rainbow  hues — 

le  bel  esmail  qui  varie 
L'honneur  gemme  d'une  prairie 
En  mille  lustres  s'esclatant.'* 

Shakespeare  also  likened  '  flowers  purple,  blue,  and  white ' 

1  This  is  Ronsard's  final  reading.     The  line   read  originally  'Nulle, 
et  fi'it-cc  Pfocris,  ne  sera  point  marrie'  [i.e.  grieved  or  offended]. 
'•^  Belleau,  CEuvics,  ed.  Gouverneur,  ii.  43. 
^  Ronsard,  CEuvns^  i.  132.  ■*  ibid.,  ii.  342. 


224  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

to  '  sapphires,  pearls,  and   rich  embroidery '  {Merry  Wives, 
V.  V.  75),  and  graphically  presented  spring  as  the  season- 
When  daisies  pied  and  violets  blue 
And  lady-smocks  all  silver-white 
And  cuckoo-buds  of  yellow  hue  ^ 
Do  paint  the  meadows  with  delight. 

Loves  Labour's  Lost,  V.  ii.  902-5. 

There  is  moreover  no  spring  flower  to  which  the  two  schools 
denied  much  the  same  poetic  honours.  Not  only  the  rose,  the 
lily,  and  the  daisy  {de  Mars  la  blanche  fleurette),  but  the 
violet,  the  pansy,  the  gilliflower,  hawthorn,  eglantine,  thyme, 
and  above  all  the  marigold  repeatedly  receive  the  poets' joint 
homage.  The  language  of  flowers  which  was  current  in  the 
Pleiade  school  closely  resembles  that  of  the  Elizabethans. 

At  the  very  opening  of  the  Elizabethan  movement  Spenser 
developed  to  pleasant  effect  a  floral  inventory  which  is 
distinctly  of  Ronsardian  affinity.  In  a  ditty  in  his  Shepheards 
Calender  ( Aegloga  IV,  April),  where  he  adapts  both  the  style 
and  metre  of  the  Pleiade,  vSpenser  wrote  — 

Bring  hither  the  pink  and  purple  columbine 

With  gelliflowers : 
Bring  coronations  (i.  e.  carnations)  and  sops-in-wine. 

Worn  of  paramours  : 
Strew  me  the  ground  with  daffadowndillies. 
With  cowslips,  and  kingcups,  and  loved  lilies. 
\  The  pretty  paunce 

^  And  the  chevisaunce 

Shall  watch  with  the  fair  fleur  de  lice.^ 

With  Spenser's  catalogue  it  is  worth  comparing  the 
following  strophes,  which  pay  tribute  in  the  like  strain  to 
most  of  vSpenser's  flowers : — 

Les  uns  chanteront  les  ceillets 
Vermeillets, 

Ou  du  lis  la  fleur  argentee 

Ou  celle  qui  s'est  par  les  prez 
Diaprez 

Du  sang  des  princes  enfantee.^ 

^  Cowslips  were  known  in  France  as  '  brayes  de  cocii '. 
"^  Spenser  has  no  warrant  for  using  the  old  French  word  '  chevisaunce  ' 
to  designate  a  flower.     In  French  it  means  '  a  mercantile  transaction '. 
^  Ronsard,  CEiivres^  ed.  Blancheniain,  ii,  430. 


RONSARD  AND  THE  MARIGOLD  22s 

L'aubepin  et  I'eglantin 

]{t  le  thym, 
L'ceillet,  le  lis  et  les  roses, 
En  cette  belle  saison, 

A  foison, 
Montrent  leiirs  robes  ecloses.^ 

Many  of  the  specific  fancies  with  which  the  Elizabethans 
played  in  their  allusions  to  particular  flowers  belong-  to 
domestic  folklore.  But  others  are  drawn  from  the  classical 
imagery  which  was  more  efficiently  naturalized  in  France  than 
anywhere  else.  Some  of  the  most  delicate  songs  of  the  French' 
Renaissance  celebrate  the  charm  of  the  marigold.  Ronsard  in 
an  Ovidian  strain  depicted  the  flower  as  a  tearful  lover  of  the 
sun,  which  drooped  its  head  in  pallor  and  dismay  at  sunset, 
and  opened  its  eyes  to  welcome  sunrise.  In  one  long  poem 
which  he  wrote  in  1573  and  called  by  the  flower's  name  (Le 
Souci  du  jardin)  Ronsard  develops  the  conceit,  addressing  the 
marigold  thus  (CEuz'res,  vi,  p.  1 11)  : 

Quand  le  soleil,  ton  amoureux,  s'abaisse 

Dedans  le  sein  de  Tethys  son  hostesse, 

Allant  revoir  le  pere  de  la  mer, 

On  voit  ton  chef  se  clorre  et  se  fermer 

Palle,  defait ;    mais  quand  sa  tresse  blonde 

De  longs  cheveux  s'esparpille  sur  I'onde 

Se  reveillant,  tu  t  eveilles  joyeux, 

Et  pour  le  voir  tu  dessiles  tes  yeux, 

Et  sa  clarte  est  seule  ton  envie, 

Un  seul  soleil  te  donnant  mort  et  vie."- 

1  Belleau,  (Eicvres,  ed.   Gouverneur,  ii.  44.     Cf.  Shakespeare's  Mid- 
sitDinier  Night's  Dream,  11.  i.  249-52  : 

I  know  a  bank  whereon  the  wild  ihyjiie  blows, 
Where  oxlips  and  the  nodding  violet  grows 
Quite  over-canopied  with  luscious  woodbine, 
With  sweet  musk-;-^j-^j,  and  with  eglantine. 
-  Cf.  Ronsard's  Amours,  I.  cciv,  and  also  CEuvres,  vi,  p.  2,2,2,,  where  the 
poet  likens  himself  to  a  marigold  : 

En  mesme  temps  me  fust  avis  aussi 
Que  j'estois  tleur  qu'on  nomme  du  soucy, 
Qui  meurt  et  pend  sa  teste  languissante 
Quand  elle  n'est  plus  du  soleil  jouissante  ; 
Alais  aussi  tost  que  I'Aurore  vermeille 
Hors  de  la  mer  la  lumiere  reveille, 
Elle  renaist,  sa  vie  mesurant 
Au  seul  regard  d'un  beau  soleil  durant. 

LEE  Q 


226  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  FXIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

A  very  modest  follower  of  the  French  master,  Gilles  Durant, 
expressed  the  same  fancy  in  an  apostrophe  to  the  marigold  of 
more  touching  simplicity  : 

Toujours  ta  face  languissante 
Aux  raiz  de  son  oeil  s'epanit, 

Et,  des  que  sa  clairte  s'absente, 
Soudain  ta  beaute  se  fanit.^ 

In  similar  strain  Shakespeare  wrote  of — 
The  marigold,  that  goes  to  bed  wi'  the  sun, 
And  with  him  rises  weeping.    [JVint.  Ta/e^\N.m.  105-6.) 

and  how  at  dawn — 

winking  mary-buds  begin 
To  ope  their  golden  eyes.       {Cymb. ^ll.  \n.  i6-'j.) 

The  turns  of  phrase  differ  in  France  and  England,  but  the 
conceits  are  almost  identical. 

The  lyric  play  of  amorous  fancy  constantly  runs  in  a  mould 
which,  whatever  its  ultimate  origin,  was  reckoned  by  Eliza- 
bethans among  French  types.  Elizabethan  poets  were  wont 
to  speculate  interrogatively  on  the  origin  of  love,  and  all 
seem  to  ring  variations  on  a  famous  sonnet  of  Desportes 
{Diane^  I.  xxxvii,  ed.  Michiels,  p.  28) : 

Amour,  quand  fus-tu  ne .''     Ce  fut  lors  que  la  terre 
S'emaille  de  couleurs  et  les  bois  de  verdeur. 
De  qui  fus-tu  con9eu  .'*     D'une  puissante  ardeur 
Qu'oisivete  lascive  en  soy-mesmes  enserre.  .  .  . 
De  qui  fus-tu  nourry  ?     D'une  douce  beaute, 
Qui  eut  pour  la  servir  jeunesse  et  vanite. 
De  quoy  te  repais-tu }     Dune  belle  lumiere.^ 

^  Desportes  adapts  an  Italian  sonnet  by  Pamphilo  Sasso,  which  was 
pubhshed  as  early  as  1 5 19  at  Venice.     Sasso's  sonnet  opens  : 
'  Quando  nascesti,  amor  ?   qiiando  la  terra 
Si  reuesti  de  uerde :    e  bel  colore 
Dhe  che  sei  generato  ?   dun  ardore 
Che  occio  lasciuo  in  se  rachiuda : '  iSic. 
Before  Desportes'  time   Sasso's   poem   was    independently  turned    into 
Latin  by  the  Scotsman,  George  Buchanan,  while  domiciled  in  France. 
Ouis  puer  ales?   Amor.     Genitor  quis?    Blandus  ocelli 

Ardor.     Quo  natus  tempore?   Vere  novo. 
Quis  locus  excepit  ?   Generosi  pectoris  aula. 
Quae  nutrix  ?   Primo  flore  iuventa  decens. 
(Cf.  Un   mfldt'le  de  Dcspoytes  non  sij^nale  ejuore :    Pamphilo  Sasso,  par 
MM.  \'aganay,  et  Vianey,  Paris,  1903.) 


'ALL  THE  WORLD'S  A  STAGE'  227 

To  like  effect  runs  the  Ivirl  of  Oxford's  popular  ditty  : 

When  wert  thou  born,  Desire  ?     In  pomp  and  prime  of  May. 
By  whom,  sweet  boy,  wert  thou  begot  ?     By  fond  Conceit, 
men  say. 

Shakespeare's 

Tell  me,  where  is  fancy  bred, 
Or  in  the  heart  or  in  the  head  ? 

is  in  a  kindred  key.     Shakespeare's  '  fancy '  is  '  love'. 

There  are  indeed  few  lyrical  topics  to  which  the  French 
and  English  writers  failed  to  apply  on  some  occasion  or  other 
much  the  same  language.  Juliet  admonishes  Romeo  not  to 
swear  by  the  moon  : 

O  !  swear  not  by  the  moon,  the  iiiconsiaiit  inoon^ 

Swear  by  thy  gracious  self, 
Which  is  the  god  of  my  idolatry,  (11.  ii.  109  sq.) 

Some  twenty  years  before,  Ronsard  had  given  a  like  warning 
to  his  mistress  Helene  (Livre  II,  vSonnet  xv) : 

Je  ne  veux  comparer  tes  beautes  a  la  lune. 

La  lime  est  incojistante^  et  ton  vouloir  n'est  qu'un  ;  .  .  . 

Tu  es  toute  ton  Dieu,  ton  astre  et  ta  fortune. 

In  a  detached  poem  w^hich  Ronsard  wrote  before  1567 
as  epilogue  of  a  dramatic  performance  at  the  royal  palace 
of  Fontainebleau,  he  played  effectively  on  a  classical  figure, 
and  gave  it  a  new  vogue  {CEzivres,  iv.  184) : 

Le  Monde  est  le  theatre,  et  les  hommes  acteurs ; 
La  Fortune,  qui  est  maistresse  de  la  Sceine, 
Appreste  les  habits,  et  de  la  vie  humaine 
Les  Cieux  et  les  Destins  en  sont  les  spectateurs. 

En  gestes  differens,  en  differens  langages, 
Roy,  Princes  et  Bergers  jouent  leurs  personnages 
Devant  les  yeux  de  tous,  sur  I'eschafaut  commun. 

The  famous  dialogue  on  the  like  theme  in  which  the  banished 
Duke  and  the  melancholy  Jaques  engage  in  Shakespeare's  As 
You  Like  Lt,  11.  vii.  137  segf.^  opens  on  Ronsard's  note : 

Dtike.     This  wide  and  universal  theatre 

Presents  more  woful  pageants  than  the  scene 
Wherein  we  play  in. 

faq.  All  the  world  's  a  stage, 

And  all  the  men  and  women  merely  players. 


228  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

Jean  Bertaut,  one  of  the  youngest  of  Ronsard's  disciples, 
penned  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  sixteenth  century  a  poem 
of  which  the  first  stanza  runs  thus  : — 

On  ne  se  souvient  que  du  mal, 
L'ingratitude  regne  au  monde  : 

/  'injure  se  grave  en  metal, 

Et  le  bieji-faii  s'escrit  en  fonde. 

Bertaut,  CEtivres^  ed,  Cheneviere, 
Paris,  1 89 1,  p.  365. 

The  last  two  lines  are  barely  distinguishable  from  the 
familiar  words  in  Henry   VIII  (IV.  ii.  45-6)  : 

Men's  evil  manners  live  in  brass ;  their  virtues 
We  write  in  water. 

/  Rather  more  characteristic  of  the  temper  of  the  Pleiade  is 
Lorenzo's  beautiful  eulogy  of  music  \n\}\Q.  Merchant  of  Venice^ 
V.  i.  70  seq.  All  the  French  poets  paid  similar  tribute  to  the 
power  of  music.  Ronsard  more  than  once,  alike  in  prose  and 
in  verse,  affirmed  that  a  fit  appreciation  of  music  was  the  true 
test  of  a  good  character,  while  want  of  appreciation  was  proof  of 
vicious  feeling.  '  Celuy,'  Ronsard  wrote, '  lequel  oyant  un  doux 
accord  d'instrumens  ou  la  douceur  de  la  voyx  naturelle,  ne  s'en 
resjouist  point,  ne  s'en  esmeut  point,  et  de  teste  en  pieds  n'en 
tressault  point,  comme  doucement  ravy,  et  si  ne  S9ay  comment 
derobe  hors  de  soy  ;  c'est  signe  qu'il  a  I'ame  tortue,  vicieuse,  et 
depravee,  et  du  quel  il  se  faut  donner  garde,  comme  de  celuy 
qui  n'est  point  heureusement  ne,'  ^ 

^  The  passage  continues  thus;  —  'Comment  se  pourroit-on  accorder 
avec  un  homme  qui  de  son  naturel  hayt  les  accords  ?  Celuy  n'est  digne 
de  voyr  la  douce  lumiere  du  soleil,  qui  ne  fait  honneur  a  la  Musique, 
comme  petite  partie  de  celle,  qui  si  armonieusement  (comme  dit 
Platon)  agitte  tout  ce  grand  univers.  Au  contraire  celuy  qui  lui  porta 
honneur  et  reverence  est  ordinairement  homme  de  bien,  il  a  Tame 
saine  et  gaillarde,  et  de  son  naturel  ayme  les  choses  haultes,  la  phi- 
losophic, le  maniment  des  affaires  politicques,  le  travail  des  guerres, 
et  bref  en  tous  offices  honorables  il  fait  tousjours  apparoistre  les 
estincelles  de  sa  vertu.'  {CEuvres,  ed.  Blanchemain,  1866,  vii,  pp.  337-8.) 
The  passage  comes  from  a  'Preface  sur  la  Musique'  by  Ronsard  to 
a  book  called  '  Melanges  de  cent  quarante-huit  Chansons  tant  de  vieux 
auteurs  que  demodernes,  k  cinq,  six,  sept  et  huit  parties,  avec  une  preface 
de  P.  de  Ronsard'  (Paris,  Ad.  Leroy  et  Rob.  Ballard,  1572,  4to).  It  is 
worth  noting  that  the  modern  French  writer  Romain  Rolland  in  Jean 


POETIC  GREETING vS  OE  THE  DAWN         229 

Shakespeare  only  slightly  varies  the  language  when  he 
repeats  the  Ronsardian  sentiment  in  the  familiar  lines — 

The  man  that  hath  no  music  in  himself, 
Nor  is  not  mov'd  with  concord  of  sweet  sounds, 
Is  fit  for  treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils, 
The  motions  of  his  spirit  are  dull  as  night, 
And  his  affections  dark  as  Erebus. 

Merck,  of  Venice,  V.  i.  83-7. 

vShakespeare's  '  concord  of  sweet  sounds '  is  Ronsard's 
'  accord  de  doux  sons  '.  Ronsard's '  L  ame  tortue,  vicieuse,  et 
depravee  '  adumbrates  Shakespeare's  '  motions  '  of  '  spirit ', 
'  which  is  fit  for  treasons.' 

Aubades  were  peculiarly  characteristic  of  Erench  lyric  effort. 
Hundreds  of  French  songs  ring  variations  on  Ronsard's  lines 
{(EiLvres,  i.  164)  : 

Mignonne,  levez  vous,  vous  estes  paresseuse ; 
Ja  la  gaye  alouette  au  ciel  a  fredonne,  .  .  . 
Sus!    debout!    allons  voir  I'herbelette  perleuse, 
Et  votre  beau  rosier  de  boutons  couronne, 
Et  vos  oeillets  mignons  ausquels  aviez  donne 
Hier  au  soir  de  Teau  d'une  main  si  soigneuse. 

Almost  daily  was  the  dawn  saluted  thus  (Ronsard,  CEtivres., 

vi.364):  . 

lo,  que  je  voy  de  roses 

Ja  decloses 
Par  rOrient  flamboyant : 
A  voir  des  nlies  diverses  1 

Les  traverses 
Voicy  le  jour  ondoyant. 
\''oicy  TAube  safranee 

Qui  ja  nee 
Couvre  d 'oeillets  et  de  fleurs 
Le  Ciel  qui  le  jour  desserre, 

Et  la  terre 
De  rosees  et  de  pleurs. 
Debout  doncq',  Aube  sacree.  .  .  . 

Christophe  a  Paris,  Dans  la  Maison,  1909,  p.  179,  makes  a  character 
(Arnaud)  quote  the  sentences  of  Ronsard  i^iven  in  our  text.  The  quotation 
is  followed  by  this  conversation:  'Je  connais  cela,  dit  Christophe :  c'est 
de  nion  ami  Shakespeare.  — Non,  dit  Arnaud  doucement,  c'est  d"un  Fran- 
(^ais  qui  vivait  avant  lui,  c'est  de  notre  Ronsard.' 


230  FRb:NCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

Shakespeare  seems  to  have  subtihzed  the  essence — melody  and 
sentiment  together— of  this  bhthe  form  of  French  song  with 
its  Anacreontic  lilt,  in  such  a  glorified  ebullition  as  this : 

Hark !  hark !  the  lark  at  heaven's  gate  sings, 

And  Phoebus  'gins  arise 
His  steeds  to  water  at  those  springs 

On  chalic'd  flowers  that  lies ; 
And  winking  mary-buds  begin 

To  ope  their  golden  eyes : 
With  every  thing  that  pretty  is, 

My  lady  sweet,  arise  ;  Arise,  arise ! 

Shakespeare's  original  genius  worked  here  in  all  its  fresh- 
ness. Yet  there  is  hardly  a  syllable  in  Shakespeare's  far-famed 
greeting  of  the  dawn  which  cannot  be  independently  matched 
in  the  verse  of  the  Pleiade.  The  song  of  the  lark  at  heaven's 
gate,  the  mythological  touch  about  the  watering  of  Phoebus's 
steeds,  the  marigold's  or  mary-buds'  welcome  of  the  sun,  the 
drops  of  dew  in  the  cups  of  flowers,  the  enveloping  air 
of  sweetness  and  light,  all  breathes  a  note  more  charac- 
teristic of  a  French  than  of  an  English  atmosphere.  Differences 
of  expression  might  be  consistent  with  accidental  coincidences, 
were  the  poem  considered  in  isolation.  Rut  the  circumstances 
of  environment  offer  powerful  hint  of  nearer  kinship. 

Thus  far,  I  have  dealt  with  assimilation  of  French  suggestion 
in  I^lizabethan  lyric  verse  (outside  the  scope  of  the  sonnet). 
But  the  situation  cannot  be  fully  appreciated  without  some 
examination  of  the  many  short  poems  of  lyric  character,  which, 
in  spite  of  tacit  avowals  of  originality,  belong  to  the  category 
of  literal  translation  from  the  French,  The  Elizabethan 
sonnet  offers  a  rich  harvest  in  this  branch  of  comparative 
study ;  it  is  other  forms  of  verse  which  are  at  present  under 
survey.  The  poet  Lodge  is  the  chief  worker  in  the  literal 
manner  of  conveyance.  But  he  does  not  stand  alone. 
Samuel  Daniel  laboured  in  the  same  medium,  and  a  writer 
of  the  learning  of  George  Chapman  is  a  third  conspicuous 
practitioner  in  this  misty  field  of  literary  labour,  while 
Drummond  of  Hawthornden,  whose  l^lizabethan  affinities  are 
unquestioned,  is  a  brilliant  member  of  the  plagiarizing  brother- 


CHAPMAN  S  RENDERING  OF  DURANT       231 

hood.  The  serious  Chapman's  activity  in  this  branch  of  effort 
is  as  notable  as  any.  In  one  of  Chapman's  earliest  volumes 
entitled  Ovid" s  Banquet  of  Scnce  there  figures  a  poem 
in  thirty  six-line  stanzas  entitled  The  Aviorous  Zodiacke. 
It  is  a  pedantic  love-poem  portraying  celestial  influences 
on  phases  of  the  poet's  passion.  Although  Chapman  gives 
no  hint  of  his  indebtedness,  no  word  of  his  text  is  original. 
Throughout,  he  is  anglicizing  a  French  poem  with  the  same 
title  and  in  the  same  metre  by  Gilles  Durant.  Durant  calls 
his  mistress  Charlotte ;  Chapman  preserves  her  anonymity  by 
calling  her '  gracious  Love  '.  There  is  hardly  any  other  change. 
Durant,  a  lyrist  who  showed  elsewhere  no  mean  grace  or 
facility,  published  this  rather  clumsy  piece  in  Paris  in  1588, 
only  seven  years  before  Chapman  printed  his  version  in  London 
in  1595.  The  latters  method  may  be  gauged  by  citation  of 
the  concluding  stanza  in  the  two  languages  ^  : 

GiLLES  Durant.  Chapman. 

Charlote,  si  le  del  ialoux  de  mon  But,  gracious  Love,  if  jealous  heaven 

enuie  deny 

Par   si  beau   changement  ne  veut  INIy  life  this  truly-blest  variety, 

heurer  ma  vie,  Yet  will  1  thee  through  all   the 

Tu  ne  lairras  pourtant  de  luyre  world  disperse  ; 

h  I'univers  ;  If  not   in   heaven,  amongst    those 

Sinon    dedans    le  Ciel    entre    les  braving  tires, 

feux  celestes.  Yet  here  thy  beauties  (which   the 

Pour   le  moins  icy  bas  tes  beautez  world  admires) 

manifestes  Bright    as     those    flames    shall 

Comme  les  feux  du  Ciel  luiront  glister  in  my  verse, 
dedans  mes  vers. 

Lodge's  activities  in  the  like  direction  are,  as  far  as  his 
French  debt  is  concerned,  more  varied.  D^sportes  is  his  chief  1 
quarry.'-  But  Ronsard  and  Baif  lie  within  the  scope  of  his  raids. 
At  times  he  puts  his  lyric  gifts  to  effective  purpose,  even  in  the 
process  of  transference.  The  following  English  stanza  is  a 
manifest  improvement  on  Desportes'  original : — 

^  Both  poems  are  printed  at  length  in  Appendix  II. 

2  In  his  Romattce  of  Rosalvnd,  Lodge  places  a  song  in  the  French 
language  in  the  mouth  of  his  shepherd  Montanus,  and  gives  no  hint  that 
it  is  other  than  his  own  composition.  It  is  a  'chanson'  literally  tran- 
scribed from  the  first  book  of  Desportes'  Amours  de  Diane  (ed.  Michiels, 
p.  30) :  '  Helas  !  tyran  plein  de  rigueur  ',  (X:c. 


232  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 


Desportes.  Diane,  II.  xviii  (ed. 

Michiels,  p.  no). 
On  verra  defaillir  tous  les  astrcs 

aux  cieux, 
Les   poissons  ^  la  mer,  le  sable 

k  son  rivage, 
All  soleil  des  rayons  bannisseurs 

de  I'ombrage, 
La  verdure  et  les  fleurs  au  prin- 

temps  gracieux  : 
Plutot  que  la  fureur  des  rapports 

envieux 
Efface  en  mon  esprit  un  trait   de 

votre  image. 


L0D(;e,  Verses  from  Rosalynde, 
1590  (1819  ed.,  p.  80). 
First  shall  the  heavens  want  starry 
light, 
The    seas    be    robbed    of    their 
waves  ; 
The  day  want  sun,  and  sun  want 
bright, 
The  night  want  shade,  the  dead 
men  graves  ; 
The   April   flowers    and    leaf    and 

tree, 
Before  I  false  my  faith  to  thee.' 


Yet  often  Lodge  refrains  from  adding  anything  to  his  French 

ybriginal.     Thus,  he  turns  two  famous  sonnets  by  Desportes — 

(one  on  a  hermit's  life  and  the  other  of  Love's  shipwreck — 

into  Enghsh  songs  without  substantial  change  of  thought  or 

word.^ 


Desportes,  Diane,  II.  viii  (ed. 

Michiels,  p.  71). 

Je  me  veux  rendre  hermite  et  faire 

penitence 
De  I'erreur  de  mes  yeux  pleins  de 

temeriie, 
Dressant  mon  hermitage  en  un  lieu 

deserte, 
Dont  nul  autre  qu'amour  n'aura  la 

connaissance. 


Lodge,  Scillaes  Metamorphosis, 
1589  (i8l9ed.,  p.  59). 

I  will  become  a  hermit  now, 

And  do  my  penance  straight 
For  all  the  errors  of  mine  eyes 

With  foolish  rashness  filled. 
My  hermitage  shall  placed  be 

Where  melancholy's  weight 
And  none  but  love  alone  shall  know 

The  bower  I  mean  to  build. 


Diane  I.  xviii  (ed.  Michiels,  p.  40). 

Ma    nef  passe    au    destroit    d'une 

mer  courrouc^e, 
Toute  comble  d'oubly,  I'hiver  k  la 

minuict  ; 
Un  aveugle,  un  enfant,  sans  souci 

la  conduit, 
Desireux  de  la  voir  sous  les  eaux 

renversee. 


Verses  from  Rosalynde,  1590 

(181 9  ed.,  pT'102). 
My  boat  doth  pass  the  straits 

Of  seas  incensed  with  fire, 
Filled  with  forgetfulness, 

Amid  the  winter's  night ; 
A  blind  and  careless  boy, 

Brought  up  by  fond  desire. 
Doth  guide  me  in  the  sea 

Of  sorrow  and  despite. 


Again,  Desportes'  greeting  of  Spring  is  handled  by  Lodge 
after  the  same  fashion  : 


'  Only  the  first   stanzas  of  the  poems  are   given   here.     The  whole 
appears  in  P'rench  and  English  in  Appendix  1. 


LODGE'S  UNAVOWED  TRANSLATIONS      233 


Desportes  (ed.  Micliiels,  p.  84). 
La  terre,  nagiieres  glacee, 
Est  ores  do  vert  tapissee, 
Son  sein  est  embelly  de  fieurs, 
L'air  est  cncor  amoureux  d'elle, 
Le  ciel  rit  de  la  voir  si  belle, 
Et  moy  j'en  augmente  mes  pleiirs. 


Loi  OE,  1589  (181 9  cd.,  p.  63). 
The  earth  late  choked  with  showers, 

Is  now  arrayed  in  green: 
Her  bosom  springs  with  flowers; 

The  air  dissolves  her  teen  ; 
The  heavens  laugh  at  her  glory, 
Yet  bide  I  sad  and  sorry.'  ^ 


Probably  the  most  notable  of  Lodge's  work  in  this  branch 
of  effort  is  a  long  poem  in  fifteen  stanzas  on  the  joys  of 
a  simple  life.  Here  Desportes'  original  is  far  more  deftly 
turned  than  Lodge's  barefaced  plagiarism.  The  following 
stanza  in  the  two  versions  is  characteristic  of  the  whole: — 


Desportes  (ed.  Michiels,  p.  432). 
Dans    les    palais    enflez    de    vaine 

pompe 
L'ambition,    la    faveur    qui     nous 

trompe, 
Et  les  soucys  logent  commune- 

ment ; 
Dedans  nos  champs  se  retirent  les 

fees, 
Koines   des  bois  a  tresses  decoif- 

i6es, 
Les  jeux,  I'amour  et  le  contente- 

ment. 


Lodge  (1819  ed.,  p.  44). 
Amidst  the  palace  brave  pufYed  up 
with  wanton  shows 
Ambitions  dwell,  and  there  false 
favours  find  disguise, 
There  lodge  consuming  cares  that 
hatch  our  common  woes; 
Amidst    our    painted  fields    the 
pleasant  Fairy  lies, 
And  all  those  powers  divine,  that 

with  untrussed  tresses, 
Contentment,     happy     love,     and 
perfect  sport  professes. 


'  Untrussed  tresses  '  is  hardly  a  felicitous  version  of  '  tresses 
decoiffees  '. 

No  variation  of  Lodge's  dependent  method  is  discernible  in 
his  treatment  of  Ronsard's  shorter  poems.  Ronsard's  song 
of  the  swallow  is  rendered  with  very  inadequate  acknow- 
ledgement by  Lodge  thus  : 


RoNSARD,  Odt's,  V.  XX  (1553J ; 
CEuvfrs,  ii,  p.  358. 

Si  tost  que  tu  sens  arriver 
La  froide  saison  de  I'hyver, 

En  septembre,  chere  arondelle, 
Tu  t'en-voles  bien  loin  de  nous  ; 
Puis    tu    reviens,  quand   le    temps 
doux 

Au  mois  d'Avril  se  renouvellc. 


Lodge,  WilUam  Longbcard,  1 593. 

'  Imitation  of  a  Sonnet  in   an 

ancient  French  poet' 

(i8i9ed.,p.  114). 

As  soon  as  thou  dost  see  the  winter 

clad  in  cold. 
Within  September  on  the  eaves  in 

sundry  forms  to  fold, 
Sweet  swallow,  far  thou  fliest,  till 

to  our  native  clime 
In   pleasant    April    Phoebus'    rays 
return  the  sweeter  time. 


'  See    A.    H.    Bullen,    Lyrics  from    EUz.ibcthan    Romance's,    1890, 
pp.  vii-ix. 


234  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

The  precise  extent  to  which  Lodg^e's  and  Chapman's  mode 
of  literal  transference  spread  in  Elizabethan  literature  cannot 
be  determined  till  all  the  voluminous  poetry  of  Italy  as  well  as 
of  France  has  been  thoroughly  ransacked.  Almost  infinite 
time  must  be  devoted  to  a  searching  comparison  before  the 
full  truth  will  be  known. 

The  vogue  which  the  practice  enjoyed  among  the  Eliza- 
bethans stoutly  maintained  its  hold  in  the  next  generation. 
Early  in  the  seventeenth  century,  Wilham  Drummond  of 
Hawthornden,  the  Scottish  poet  whose  lyric  genius  seems 
steeped  in  Elizabethan  tradition,  bore  exceptionally  convincing 
testimony  to  the  persistence  of  the  Elizabethan  habit  of  secret 
borrowing  from  contemporary  French  verse.  Very  often  do 
Drummond's  lyrics  appear  to  echo  the  genuine  Elizabethan 
strain,  and  very  curious  is  it  to  learn  that  the  affinity  usually 
comes  of  almost  direct  translation  from  the  French.  Drum- 
mond's debts  to  the  poets  of  the  Pleiade  and  to  Desportes  are 
conspicuous ;  but  more  worthy  of  notice  is  his  dependence 
on  less  famous  French  poets  whose  activities  were  strictly  con- 
temporary with  his  own.  Of  these  Jean  Passerat  has  habitu- 
ally perhaps  the  lightest  touch  and  best  lyric  faculty.  A 
chanson  by  him  in  the  form  of  a  dialogue  between  La 
Pastourelle  and  Le  Pastoureau  was  turned  by  Drummond 
into  a  lyric  idyll  which  seems  to  present  almost  all  the 
essential  features  of  Elizabethan  song.  The  two  poems  should 
be  closely  compared.  The  opening  and  closing  lines  run 
thus  in  French  and  Enoflish  ; 


r,,c-c-^r..^      r        D        ■       zr  ■  DRUMMOND    OF    HaWTHORNDEN, 

Passerat    LesPoes,es  Franqaises  p^^  ^^-^  ^^^^^^  j^^^^^^^^^^ 

(ed.  Blanchemain,  i.  141).  (p^^.^g^  /d.  W.  C.  Ward,  ii.  159). 

La  Pastoitrelle.  Pastoureau,  m'ai-  rhyllis.  Shepherd,  dost  thou  love 

mes-tu  bien  ?  me  well  ? 

Le  Pastoureau.    Je    t'aime,    Dieu  Damon.  Better    than    weak  words 

sgait  combien.  can  tell. 

La  P.  Comme  quoi .'  Ph.   Like  to  what,  good  shepherd, 


say 


Le  P.    Comme  toi,  Da.  Like  to  thee,  fair,  cruel  may, 

Ma  rebel  le 
Pastourelle. 


PASSERAT  AND  DRUMMOND 


235 


/'//.    O  liow  strange  these  words  I 
find! 
Yet,  to  satisfy  my  mind, 
Shepherdjwithout  mocking  me, 
Have  I  any  love  for  thee, 
Like  to  what,  good  shepherd, 
say  ? 
Dn.  Like  to  thee,  fair,  cruel  may. 

Ph.   Iktter  answer  had  it  been 
To  say  thou  lov'd  me  as  thine 
eyne. 
Da.  Woe  is  me,  these  I  love  not, 
For    by   them    love   entrance 

got, 
At  that  time  they  did  behold 
Thy  sweet  face  and  locks  of 
gold  .  .  . 

Ph.   Like  to  what,  good  shepherd, 

say  ? 
Da.  Like  to  thee,  fair,  cruel  may. 


Ph.   Leave,  I    pray,  this  '  Like   to 
thee ', 
And  say,  1  love  as  I  do  me. 
Da.  Alas !  I  do  not  love  myself, 
For     I'm    split     on     beauty's 
shelf. 
Ph.   Like  to  what,  good  shepherd, 

say  ? 
Da.  Like  to  thee,  fair,  cruel  may.^ 


La  P.  En  rien  no  m'a  contcnlc 
Ce  propos  trop  affcttc, 
Pastoureau,  sans  moqucrie 
M'aimes-tu?  di,  jc  tc  pric. 
Comme  quoi  ? 

Lc  P.   Comme  toi, 

Ma  rebelle 

Pastourelle. 
La  P.  Tu  m'eusses  repondu  mieus, 

Je  t'aime  comme  mes  yeux. 

L.e  P.  Trop  de  haine  je  leur  portc  : 
Car  ils  ont  ouvert  la  porte 
Aus  peines  que  j'ay  receu, 
Des  lors  que  je  t'appcr9eu  : 
Ouand  ma  liberte  fut  prise 
De  ton  ceil  qui  me  mais- 
trise  .  .  . 

La  P.  Comme  quoi  ? 

Lc  P.   Comme  toi. 

Ma  rebelle 

Pastourelle. 
La  P.  Laisse  la  ce  '  Comme  toi ' : 

Di,  jc  t'aime  comme  moi. 

Le  P.   Je     ne    m'aime    pas    moy- 
mesmes. 

Di     moi     doncques,    si     tu 
m'aimes 
L^a  P.  Comme  quoi  ? 
Le  P.   Comme  toi. 
Ma  rebelle 
Pastourelle. 


In  all  probability  French  poetry  was  put  by  the  Elizabethan 
lyrists  under  heavier  contribution  than  the  Italian,  but  the 
exact  ratio  is  yet  to  be  ascertained.     The  poet  Daiiiel  laid 
impartial   hands  on  contemporary  verse   of  both    countries. 
Drummond  was  no  less  liberal  or  catholic  in  his  concealed  / 
translation  of  foreign  verse.     By  way  of  evidence  that  the/ 
contemporary   mode    of   appropriating    Italian    poetry  was| 
indistinguishable   from    that   which   was   applied   to  French; 
poetry,  extracts  may   be  cited    from  Daniel's  melodious  odej 


1  This  discovery  of  Drummond's  indebtedness  is  one  of  the  many  debts 
that  students  owe  to  Prof.  Kastncr.  (See  his  '  Drummond  of  Hawthorn- 
den  and  the  French  Poets  of  the  Sixteenth  Century'  in  The  Modern 
La7igtiage  Revieiv^  vol.  v,  No.  i,  January,  1910,  p.  49.) 


236  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 


(on  the  Golden  Age)  which  hterally  translates  without  any 
acknowledgement  the  metre  and  words  of  a  lyric  chorus  in 
y    Tasso's  pastoral  play  oi  A  mint  a. 

Tasso,  Aminta,  Atto  I.  Sc,  2  (last 

chorus). 
O  bella  et<\  de  I'oro, 
Non  gik  perch^  di  latte 
Sen'   corse   il  fiume,  e  stillo   mele 

il  bosco, 
Non  perch e  i  frutti  loro 
Dier  da  1'  aratro  intatte 
Le    terre,  e   gli   angui   errar   senz' 

ira,  o  tosco, 
Non  perche  nuuol  fosco 
Non  spiego  allhor  suo  velo, 
Ma,  in  Primavera  eterna 
C  hora  s'accende,  e  verna, 
Rise  di  luce,  e  di  sereno  il  Cielo 
Ne  porto  peregrino 
O  guerra,  o  merce,  a  gli  altrui  Jidi 

il  pino. 


Amiam,  che  '1  Sol  si  muove,  et  poi 

renasce. 
A  noi  sua  breve  luce 
S'asconde,  e  '1  sonno  etei'na  notte 

adduce. 


DANIEL,^D^//a. 
O  happy  golden  age  ! 
Not  for  that  Rivers  ran 
With  streams  of  milk,  and  Honey 

dropt  from  Trees  ; 
Not  that  the  earth  did  gage 
Unto  the  Husbandman 
Her  voluntary  fruits,  free  without 

Fees, 
Not  for  no  cold  did  freeze, 
Nor  any  cloud  beguile 
The  eternal  flowering  Spring, 
Wherein  lived  every  thing ; 
And     whereon    th'    heavens 

petually  did  smile  ; 
Not  for  no  ship  had  brought 
From   foreign   shores    or   wars    or 

wares  ill  sought. 

Let's  love— the    sua  doth  set  and 

rise  again, 
But  when  as  our  short  Light 
Comes  once  to  set,  it  makes  Eternal 

night. 


per- 


IX 

The  Metrical  Debt  of  the  Elizabethan  Lyric 
other  than  the  soxnet 

In  an  inquiry  into  the  relation  of  the  Elizabethan  lyric  or 
short  poem  with  the  work  of  the  Pleiade,  form  and  sentiment, 
thought  and  style,  metre  and  vocabulary,  all  come  within  the 
limits  of  the  survey.^ 

The  significance  of  the  metrical  debt  may  be  at  the  outset 
inferred  from  the  circumstance  that  the  technical  terms  of  the 
lyric  art,  although  of  Greek  origin,  reached  the  Elizabethans 
directly  from  France.  The  word  '  lyric  '  itself,  like  '  ode  ' 
and  '  hymn  '  (in  its  original  secular  sense),  is  an  Fllizabethan 
loan  from  the  French,  and  was  unknown  to  England  at  any 


Detailed  notice  of  the  sonnet  is  postponed  to  section  XII  infra. 


THE  ENGLISH  RATTLE  OF  THE  METRES    237 

earlier  epoch.  The  same  story  is  to  be  told  of  the  word 
'  sonnet ',  Althouoh  of  Italian  ori<rin  it  was  thorou<rlily 
gallicizcd  by  the  Pleiade.  '  Amour,'  which  enjoyed  a  wide 
vogue  in  PVance  as  a  synonym,  was  also  adopted  by  the 
Elizabethans.  Drayton,  like  Ronsard  and  Desportes,  called 
his  sonnets  '  Amours  ',*  Hut  the  alternative  title  was  short- 
lived. The  term  '  sonnet '  came  to  prevail  in  England  no  less 
than  in  France.^  '  Complainte '  is  another  French  poetic 
term,  which  was  often  used  in  the  sense  of  elegy.  A  section 
of  Marot's  work  is  headed  Complaintes^  and  separate  poems 
are  thus  desienated  throughout  the  work  of  the  Pleiade. 
Spenser  or  his  editor  had  the  French  terminology  in  mind 
when  he  called  one  of  his  collection  of  miscellaneous  poems 
Cojiiplaiiits. 

A  peculiar  episode  in  the  early  day  of  Elizabethan  prosody 
shows  the  closeness  with  which  metrical  developments  at 
home  marched  in  foreign  footsteps.  A  warm  controversy 
respecting  the  adaptation  to  lyric  poetry  of  the  rhymeless 
quantitative  metres  of  Latin  and  Greek  opened  in  Elizabethan 
England  just  as  the  like  debate  was  closing  in  France.  The 
strenuous  plea  for  '  vers  mesures '  which  Baif,  a  leader  of 
the  Pleiade,  had  raised  in  Paris,  was  soon  reflected  in  an 
effort  to  acclimatize  hexameter  and  pentameter,  sapphics  and 
alcaics,  in  Elizabethan  London.'^ 


'  Another  P^Iizabethan  sonneteer,  Thomas  Watson,  fancifully  rendered  I 
the  French  word  'Amour'  in  this  connexion  by  the  English  word  'Passion  '  ' 
(i.e.  love),  and  dubbed  his  quatorzains  'passions'. 

*  The  use  of  '  air '  in  the  sense  of  song  or  melody  first  reached  England 
from  France  in  Elizabeth's  time.  The  French  word  which  was  derived 
from  the  Italian  aria  does  not  seem  to  have  been  known  in  France  before 
the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  Adrien  Le  Roy,  the  composer  of 
the  famous  Yx&\\c\\w\\\^\zhoo\^  Liv)-e d\iirs  de  cour  mis sitr le liitJi  (1571), 
calls  attention  in  the  dedication  to  the  fact  that  light  songs  which  had 
hitherto  been  known  as  '  voix  de  ville '  had  now  first  changed  their  name  to 
''airs  de  cour'.  Shakespeare  appears  to  have  been  the  first  English  writer 
to  use  the  word  in  a  musical  sense  in  the  phrase  '  your  tongue's  sweet  air'' 
{M.N.D.  I.  i.  83).  Shortly  afterwards  the  term  was  in  common  employ- 
ment. The  musician  Morley,  in  his  'Introduction  to  Music',  1597, 
remarks  that  '  all  kinds  of  light  music  except  the  madrigal  are  by  a 
generall  name  called  ayres\ 

^  Some  echoes  of  the  P'rench  controversy  over  'vers  mesurds'  in 
Elizabethan  England  arc  very  distinct.     Lodge  heads  one  of  his  earliest 


23H  frp:nch  influence  in  Elizabethan  lyric 

Gabriel  Harvey,  who  shared  Baif s  pedantry  without  his 
poetic  sentiment,  repeated  Baif's  adventures  on  EngHsh  soil. 
'-  With  Baif  Harvey  denounced  rhyme  and  accent  as  ungainly 
barbarisms.  He  himself  not  only  practised  the  quantitative 
principle,  but  pressed  his  argument  on  his  admiring  disciples, 
Sir  Philip  Sidney  and  Edmund  Spenser,  the  true  heralds  of  the 
Elizabethan  triumph.  Under  Harvey's  auspices  a  literary  club 
was  formed  at  a  nobleman's  house— at  the  Earl  of  Leicester's 
house — in  London,  and  was  christened  the  'Areopagus'.  The 
chief  members  of  the  club— Harvey,  Spenser,  and  ^Sidney — , 
all  for  a  time  discussed  approvingly  the  classical  theory  of 
prosody,  and  upheld  it  on  much  the  same  grounds  as  had 
called  into  existence,  a  dozen  years  before,  Baif's  poetic 
Academy  of  Paris.  Like  BaiTs  pupils,  Sidney  and  Spenser 
gradually  perceived  the  underlying  fallacy  of  Harvey's 
pedantry,  and  breaking  away  from  Harvey's  toils  they  brought 
the  Areopagus  and  its  ideals  to  an  early  end.  In  Elizabethan 
E^ngland  no  less  effectively  than  in  sixteenth-century  France, 
the  ineptitude  of  experiments  in  unrhymed  classical  metres 
disposed  of  the  claims  of  classical  prosody  to  regulate  modern 
poetry.  When  the  claims  of  quantity  to  take  the  place  of 
accent  were  finally  dismissed,  the  classical  champions  in 
England,  as  in  France,  concentrated  their  attack  on  rhyme. 
Thomas  Campion,  himself  a  master  of  rhyming  melody, 
pleaded  for  the  rejection  of  rhyme  as  late  as  1602.  He 
was  answered  by  vSamuel  Daniel  in  his  Defense  of  Rhymes 
but  Campion's  own  command  of  rhyming  harmonies  is  the 
best  confutation  of  his  argument.  George  Chapman,  a  finished 
classical  scholar,  spoke  a  wise  word  on  the  general  controversy 
in  one  of  his  earliest  poems  : 


lyrics  Beauties  LuUabie  (15S9),  for  which  he  doubtfully  asserts  complete 
originality,  with  the  suggestive  words  '  non  mesuree  '.  Most  of  Ronsard's 
odes  have  the  same  heading  by  way  of  warning  that  he  refused  to  write 
in  'vers  mesurt^s'  in  accordance  with  the  classical  scheme  of  quantitative 
prosody.  The  P'rench  phrase  '  vers  mesure '  is  not  uncommon  in 
Elizabethan  literature  in  the  form  '  measured  verse '.  Some  belated 
experiments  figure  in  Davison's  Poetical  Rhapsody,  1602,  which  is  said  to 
contain  'Diuerse  Sonnets,  Odes,  Elegies,  Madrigalls,  and  other  Poesies, 
both  in  Rime  and  Measured  Verse  '. 


RONSARD'S  METRES  IN  ENGLAND    239 

vSweet  poesy  1 

Will  not  he  clad  in  her  supremacy  \ 

With  those  strange  garments,  Rome's  hexameters,     \ 
As  she  is  English  :    but  in  right  prefers 
Our  native  robes  put  on  with  skilful  hands — 
English  heroics— to  those  antique  garlands. 

Shadozu  of  Nighty  ii.  86-9  r. 

Baifs  censorious  critics  in  Erance  brought  no  surer  logic  than 
lurks  in  these  lines  of  Chapman  to  bear  on  the  metrical 
heresy  of  a  pedantic  classicism.  Little  doubt  is  possible  that 
the  English  controversy  is  a  pale  reflection  of  the  Erench,^ 

The  versatility  which  Ronsard  and  his  disciples  betrayed  in 
the  rhyming  schemes  of  their  lyric  stanzas  on  the  accentual 
principle  early  attracted  the  notice  of  Elizabethan  poets,  and 
doubtless  contributed  to  the  discomfiture  of  classical  pedantry. 
Almost  all  the  new  rhyming  strophes  of  Elizabethan  song  , 
were   in   earlier   use   by   the    poets   of   the   Pleiade,   before 
they   were    planted    on    English    soil.      The    permutations  ' 
of  rhyme    in    five-    and    six-lined    stanzas    of   the    Pleiade 
are  wellnigh  infinite.      Elizabethan  prosodists  were  far   less 
enterprising,   but   their   echoes    are    numerous   and    varied. 
Drayton  imitated  one  of  the  most  familiar  French  schemes  of 
rhyme  aabab  in  the  five- lined  stanzas  of  his  ode  To  Himself 
and  the   Harp!'     Again,  among  Ronsard's  many  personal 
inventions    was    a    five-line    stanza    rhyming   ababa.      With 
admirable  effect  Shakespeare  employed  this  melodious  scheme 


'  Ronsard's  friend,  Cardinal  du  Perron  (1556-161S),  condemned  Baif's 
prosodic  principles  of  quantity  ^i.  e.  long  and  short  syllables)  in  terms 
which  have  a  qualified  application  to  English  verse  :  '  Notre  langue  n'est 
pas  capable  de  vers  mesurez,  premierement  parce  qu'elle  n'a  point  de 
longues,  et  se  prononce  quasi  tout  d'une  teneur  sans  changement  de  voix.' 
{Ferjoniana,  ed.  1669,  Paris,  p.  249.) 

''■  The  metre  of  Drayton's  lyric  may  be  compared  with  that  of  an  ode 
of  Baif  in  his  Amours  de  Francine,  Bk.  iii  {Poesies  Choisies,  ed.  Becq 
de  Fouquieres,  1874,  p.  147). 

Drayton.  Bau". 

And  why  not  I,  as  he  Amour,  voulant  h.  mon  des//« 

That 's  greatest,  if  as  free,  Metre  une  fois  heureuse  Jhi, 

In  sundry  strains  that  sirii'e,  M'a  mene  voir  la  delle 

Since  there  so  many  be,  A  qui  deu  je  vivois,  il  Jin 

Th'  old  lyric  kind  revive,  D'estre  serviteur  d'elle. 


240  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

with  sliofht  variation  of  the  lenptli  of  line,  in   his  far-famed 
song-,  '  Who  is  Sylvia  ? '    Ronsard  contrived  the  strophe  thus  : 

\^ersons  ces  roses  en  ce  vin^ 

Va\  ce  bon  vin  versons  ces  roscs^ 

Et  boivons  I'un  a  I'autre,  ajin 

Qu'au  cceur  nos  tristesses  encloses 

Prennent  en  boivant  quelque  Ji)i} 

Shakespeare  worked  the  French  scheme  of  rhyme   to   this 
purpose : 

Is  she  kind  as  she  xs /air  ? 

For  beauty  lives  with  kindness  ; 
Love  doth  to  her  eyes  repair 

To  help  him  of  his  blindness ; 
And,  being  helped,  inhabits  there. 

Tivo  Gent,  of  Verona.,  IV.  ii.  45-9. 

,'  ^  Another  invention  of  the  Pleiade  was  the  four-lined  stanza 
of  Tennyson's  /;/  Memoriavt.  The  French  poets  com- 
monly composed  it  of  eight-syllable  lines,  as  in  the  standard 
Tennysonian  version,  but  six-,  ten-,  and  even  twelve-syllable 
lines  are  also  occasionally  found.  It  was  Sir  Philip  Sidney 
.  who  inaugurated  English  experiments  with  the  stanza,  and  he 
I  loosely  imitated  the  normal  octosyllabic  version  of  contem- 
porary France  :  but  the  eight  syllables  of  the  first  and  fourth 
lines  dwindle  to  seven  in  the  second  and  third.  One  of 
Sidney's  stanzas  runs  thus : 

Have  I  caught  my  heav'nly  jewel 
Teaching  sleep  most  fair  to  be  ? 
Now  will  I  teach  her  that  she 

When  she  wakes  is  too,  too  cruel. 

The  English  poem  catches  the  metre  and  sentiment  of  such 
an  effort  as  Du  Bellay's  Baiser: 

Quand  ton  col  de  couleur  de  rose 
Se  donne  a  mon  embrassement 
Et  ton  oeil  languist  doucement 

D'une  paupiere  a  demi  close,  &c.^ 

*  CEirjres,  ed.  Blanchemain,  ii.  291. 

"^  One  of  the  best  examples  of  the  Pleiade's  employment  of  this  metre 
in  octosyllabics  is  Ronsard's  well-known  ode  Magie,  on  dt'/tv^-iuiie 
(f  Amour.     Jean   Bertaut,  the  youngest  disciple  of  the   Pleiade  school, 


THE  FRENCH  ODE  IN  ENGLAND  241 

Only  less  proiniiunt  than  the  'sonnet'  (which  is  to  be  con- 
sidered hereafter)  in  the  history  of  the  l^lizabethan  lyric,  is  the 
'*"ode',.  of  which  the  French  kinship  is  never  much  concealed. 
^The^  odes  '  which  won  widest  favour  among  the  F^lizabethans 
might  often  be  justly  entitled  '  songs  '.  Their  affinity  with 
Horatian  poetry  is  unquestionable,  but  it  was  the  French  , 
adaptation  of  the  Horatian  vogue  which  explains  the  entry  of 
the  '  ode  '  into  Elizabethan  England.  One  of  Ronsard's  early 
boasts  was  that  he  was  the  first  of  Europeans  to  adapt  to 
a  modern  language  the  Pindaric  ode,  with  its  division  into 
epode,  strophe,  and  antistrophe.  But  this  elaboration  waS\ 
quickly  dropped,  and  Ronsard  and  his  friends,  following  the  \ 
example  of  Horace's  '  carmina '  or  '  epodae  ',  reduced  the  '  ode  ' 
to  an  uninterrupted  series  of  regular  brief  stanzas,  varying  in 
number  at  the  will  of  the  poet,  but  uniform  in  construction 
through  the  length  of  each  poem.  Odes,  short  or  long,  on 
this  simple  plan  fill  the  pages  of  the  Pleiade,  and  in  the  last 
decade  of  the  sixteenth  century  they  were  eagerly  imitated  by 
Shakespeare's  fellow  countrymen. 

The  poetaster  Soothern  introduced  the  word  and  the  form 
into_jthe^nglish  language  in  1584  when  he  published  his 
volume  of  crude  imitations  of  Ronsard.  Barnabe  Barnes  was 
the  first  Elizabethan  of  any  real  promise  to  pubhsh  a  collection 
of '  odes '  in  1593.  The  prosody  of  Barnes's  varied  stanzas  is 
nearly  aTliedTo' France.  The  metrical  versatility  of  his  '  odes  ' 
cannot  be  matched  elsewhere.  The  truer  poet  Drayton 
was  the  most  vigorous  contriver  of  Elizabethan  '  odes  ',  and 
his  efforts  again  followed  current  French  usage.  Horace, 
to  whom  he  pays  vague  tribute,  gave  him  added  suggestion 
at  first  hand,  and  there  is  originality  in  the  development  of 
his  themes  and  in  the  manipulation  of  his  strophes.  But 
Drayton  repeatedly  accepts  a  French  cue  for  both  topic  andl 
metre,  although  he  stops  far  short  of  plagiarism.  His '  ode  ',| 
To  Hijnself  and  the  Harp,  echoes  Ronsard's  ode  A  sa  lyrd 

employed  Alexandrines  in  this  four-lined  stanza.  Ben  Jonson  and  Lord 
Herbert  of  Cherbury,  who  both  used  the  stanza,  seem  to  have  borrowed 
it  anew  direct  from  the  French,  and  to  have  known  little  of  Sidney's 
pioneer  effort. 

LEE  R 


242  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

more  closely  than  Horace's  Ad  lyrain  (I.  xxxii).  As  heir  of 
'Apollo  and  the  Nine'  Drayton  here  claims  with  Ronsard 
the  praise  of  reviving  '  th'  old  lyric  kind '  which  Pindar  and 
Horace  dignified.  But  the  English  poet,  unlike  Ronsard, 
made  no  trial  of  the  Pindaric  ode.  Drayton's  praise  of  Pindar, 
'  that  great  Greek,'  is  merely  a  pale  reflection  of  Horatian 
eulogy  of  Pindar  as  it  was  enshrined  in  Ronsard's  verse. 
Drayton's  companion  salutation  of  Horace  strikes  boldly  a 
1  French  note.^  Drayton's  ode,  To  the  Nezv  Year^  is  of 
I  similar  kinship  to  Du  Bellay's  ode,  Djl  premier  j'otLr  de  I'aii^ 
'  and  he  introduces  the  poem  with  Du  Bellay's  apostrophe 
to  the  statue  of  double-faced  Janus.  Ronsard's  Anacreontic 
enthusiasm  for  the  rose,  which  inspired  at  least  three  of  his 
most  tuneful  odes,  as  well  as  many  fine  sonnets,^  is  the  obvious 
source  of  Drayton's  Anacreontic  ode  in  praise  of  the  same 
^  flower.  Here  Drayton  plays  slight  variations  on  Ronsard's 
metre,  but  Ronsard's  sentiment  fully  retains  in  its  English  garb 
its  Anacreontic  fragrance.  In  the  linglish  poet's  ode,  To  the 
Virginian  Voyage^  the  topic  travels  far  from  French  bounds  ; 
but  the  rhyming  involutions  respect  a  French  metrical  scheme. 
Occasionally  an  Elizabethan  '  ode '  renders  with  absolute 
literalness  both  the  words  and  metre  of  Ronsard.  There  is  no 
mistaking  the  source  of  Lodge's  'ode'  in  his  romance  of 
William  Longbeard^  which  he  published  as  an  original  com- 
position.    The  first  stanza  in  French  and  English  runs  thus  : 

'  Acknowledgements  to  '  les  deux  harpeurs',  Horace  and  Pindar  often 
figure  conjointly  in  Ronsard:  cf. 

'Je  pillay  Thebe  et  saccageay  la  Pouille  (i.e.  Apulia), 
T'enrichissant  de  leur  belle  despouille.'       {QLitvres,  ii,  p.  128.) 

Drayton,  in  the  same  '  ode ',  commends  Soothern,  the  first  imitator  in  Eng- 
land of  the  Ronsardian  ode  ;  he  calls  Soothern  '  An  English  lyrick '. 
'^  Cf. ; —  Sur  toute  fleurette  ddclose 

J'aime  la  senteur  de  la  rose.      {CEuvres,  ii,  p.  342.) 
Dieu  te  gard,  I'honneur  du  Printemps.  {ib.  ii,  p.  430.) 

Douce,  belle,  gentille  et  bien-flairante  Rose.      (ib.\.  p.  152.) 
Drayton's  eighth  '  ode'  opens — 

Sing  we  the  rose 

Than  which  no  flower  there  grows 

Is  sweeter: 
And  aptly  her  compare,  &c. 
All  the  members  of  Ronsard's  school  pay  like  tributes  to  the  rose. 


FRENCH  REFRAINS  243 

^,  ,  ,  LODGli,   'An   ode'   from    W'illhun 

KONSAKD,  CM-^,  V.  17  (1553);  Lomrbeani,     1593.    (1S19    ed., 

6E-«t//rj,  II,  p.  356.  p.   117.) 

Puis  que  tost  je  doy  reposer  Since  that  I  must  repose 

Outre  I'infernale  riviere,  Beyond  th'  infernal  lake, 

Ht^ !    que  me  sert  de  composer  What  vails  me  to  compose 

Autant  de  vers  qu'a  fait  Homcre?      As    many    verses    as    Homer    did 

make  ?  ^ 

Elizabethan  ears  were  captivated  by  the  varied  charms  of 

French  prosody.    Tributes  to  its  seductive  melody  occasionally 

took,  in  the  Elizabethan  lyric,  the  jhape  of  a  refrain  in  the 

French  language.     Robert  Greene,  one  of  the  earliest  song 

writers  of  the  genuine  Elizabethan  stamp,  has  more  than  one 

song  on  this  pattern,  which  recalls  many  a  popular  villanelle 

or  chansonnette  of  Ronsard's  school : 

Sweet  Adon',  darest  not  glance  thine  eye, 

N'oserez-vous^  inon  bel  amy? 
Upon  thy  Venus  that  must  die, 

Je  vous  en  prie^  pity  me  ; 
N'oserez-voiis,   inori  bel,  inon  bel, 

N'oserez-voiis,  mon  bel  amy  ?  ^ 


X 

The  Pleiade  Vocabulary  in  Elizabethan  Poetry 

In  adorning  his  verse  with  snatches  of  French,  Greene  was 
pursuing  a  custom  which  was  congenial  to  Elizabethan 
poets.  The  poets'  familiarity  with  the  language  of  the  Pleiade 
may  well  be  illustrated  from  Shakespeare's  usage.     The  three 

'  The  whole  poem  is  quoted  in  Appendix  I. 

-  Greene's  Works,  ed.  Churton  Collins,  ii.  289.  Less  pleasing  is 
MuUidores  Madrigal,  a  poem  similarly  constructed  (in  Greene's  Never 
too  late,  1590),  of  which  the  second  stanza  runs — 

Thy  beauty,  my  love,  exceedeth  supposes, 
Thy  hair  is  a  nettle  for  the  nicest  roses, 

Mo7i  dieu,  aide  nioy. 
That  I  with  the  primrose  of  my  fresh  wit 
May  tumble  her  tyranny  under  my  feet, 

He  dofique  ie  sera  un  ieune  roy, 
Trap  belle  pour  inoy,  helas  helas, 
Trap  belle  pour  i/ioy,  voila  iiiofi  Ire  spas. 
Greene's  Jl'orks,  ed.  Churton  Collins,  ii.  304. 

R  2 


244  FRENCH  INFLU1:NCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

i  scenes  penned  in  the  French  tongue  in  Henry  l\  though  defi- 
\  cient  in  idiomatic  grace,  indicate  facility  in  speaking  and  writing. 
\  But  the  most  convincing  proof  of  his  own  and  his  fellow 
i  writers'  indulgent  regard  for  the  French  language  is  found 
I  in  their  occasional  employment  in  an  English  context  of  pure 
'  French  words  which  had  never  been  anglicized.  The  habit 
was  of  old  standing,  but  Shakespeare  especially  gave  it  a  new 
vogue.  No  importance  attaches  to  his  fondness  for  French 
words  like  '  foison '  (i.e.  plenty,  harvest),  or  '  carcanet '  (a 
diminutive  of'carcan',  necklace),  or  'sans',  the  French  pre- 
position (meaning  without),  because  earlier  English  writers  had 
already  shown  these  expressions  much  favour.  The  crucial  point 
is  that  Shakespeare  grafts  on  his  own  English  speech  for  the 
first  and  only  time  numerous  French  colloquialisms.  In  one  ot 
the  best-known  passages  in  Macbeth  (ll.  i.  46)  the  hero  descries 
'  gouts  of  blood  '  on  the  blade  and  dudgeon  of  the  phantasmal 
dagger.  'Gouts'  is  the  French  '  gouttes  '  (i.e.  drops).  No 
Englishman  is  known  to  have  used  the  word,  either  before  or 
since  save  in  quotation  from  this  passage.  In  like  manner 
Othello,  in  his  travellers  tale  (I.  iii.  140),  speaks  to  Desdemona 
of  '  antres  vast '.  '  Antres,'  which  is  another  a-rra^  X^yonevov 
in  English,  is  prominent  in  the  latinized  vocabulary  of  the 
Pleiade.  It  is  the  word  which  solemnly  ushers  in  one  of  the 
most  famous  and  touching  of  Ronsard's  poems,  his  world- 
renowned  De  ^Election  d'un  Sepulcre  which  has  for  its 
\  first  line:  ''  Ajitres  et  vous  fontaines.'  Again, '  jrrzV/z^rvf ,'  in 
Hamlet^  is  Shakespeare's  unique  anglicization  of  the  French 
'  escrimeurs  '  (i.  e.  fencers)  which  is  claimed  as  an  invention  of 
Ronsard.^  Robert  Greene  seems  to  have  been  the  first  to 
employ  the  common  French  word  ^  ceillade''  (i.e.  glance  or 
wink).  Shakespeare  employed  it  twice,  and  with  him  its 
English  use  for  the  period  ended.      The  many  Elizabethan 

^  The  mention  in  All's  Well,  i.  iii.  57,  of  '  Young  Charbon  the  Puritan 

and  old  Poysam  the  Papist'  betrays  the  same  predilection  for  French 

words.     '  Charbon  '  is  no  doubt  an  intentional  corruption  of  '  chair  bonne ' 

(i.e.  good  flesh)  and  'poysam'  is  a  corruption  of  'poisson'  (i.e.  fish). 

I  There  is  an  ironical  reference  to  the  Lenten  fare  of  Puritan  and  Papist, 

I  the  Papist's  parade  of  a  fish  diet  during  Lent  impelling  the  Puritan  to 

1  insist  on  a  meat  diet  at  that  season. 


SHAKKvSPEARE'S  USK  OF  FRENCH  WORDS     z^j 

substantives  ending  in  -nrc  (the  FVench  -^///')--' rondure,' 
'  defeature,'  '  rejoindure,'  '  enacture,'  '  recomforture  ' — are  bor- 
rowed from  I'Vance.  These  words  vShakespeare  employed 
more  liberally  than  any  contemporary.  ' 

At  times  Shakespeare  adapts  a  French  phrase  to  l^nglish 
speech.  Twice  he  echoes  the  French  '  grand  jour '  or  '  grand 
matin ',  and  writes  of 'great  morning'  where  he  means  'broad 
day '.  When  Autolycus  in  IVtiiters  Tale,  iv.  ii.  9,  sings  of  j 
'  the  lark  that  tirra-lirra  chants ',  he  borrows  the  F>ench 
onomatopoeic  rendering  of  the  lark's  note,  to  which  Ronsard 
first  gave  a  general  vogue  in  his  splendid  ode,  UAloueite  : 

Tu  dis  en  I'air  de  si  doux  sons 
Composez  de  ta  tirelirc^ 
Qu'il  n'est  amant  qui  ne  desire,    \ 
T'oyant  chatiter  au  renouveau, 
Comme  toy  devenir  oyseau.' 

But  the  vocabulary  of  the  F^lizabethan  poets  owes  to  the 
Pleiade  a  more  impressive  debt  than  scattered  words  and 
phrases.  A  novel  principle  of  word-composition  was  bor- 
rowed from  France.  Of  none  of  his  innovations  was  Ronsard 
prouder  than  of  his  introduction  into  French  poetry  of 
compound  words  or  double  epithets.  His  fancy  was  caught 
in  youth  by  the  compound  epithets  of  Homer,  and  he  framed ! 
the  rule  that  a  poet  should  freely  invent  and  employ  such 
formations  provided  that  they  could  be  made  graceful  and 
pleasant    to    the   ear.       Ronsard    quickly    learnt    the    trick 

^  QLuvrcs,  ed.  Blanchemain,  vi.  348.  Du  Bartas,  after  his  wont,  , 
bombastically  exaggerated  Ronsard's  identification  of  the  word  '  tire-lire '  ! 
with  the  lark :  cf. 

La  gentille  Alouette  avec  son  tire-lire  \ 

Tire  I'ire  a  Tire  ;   et  tire-lirant  tire 

Vers  la  voute  du  ciel ;    puis  son  vol  vers  ce  lieu 

Vire,  et  desire  dire,  'adieu  Dieu,  adieu  Dieu.' 

Semaifie  I—Cinquiesvie  jour  {^^.  1615),.  p.  1 24. 
'Tire-lire'  is  rarely  found  in  English,  although  Thomas  Mufifet  in  his 
Silkworms  and  their  flies  (1599)  absurdly  calls  larks,  after  Du  Bartas's 
manner,  '  tyry-tyry-leerers.'     In  the  lines  — 

the  lark  whose  notes  do  beat 
The  7'aulty  heaven  so  high  above  our  heads. 

{Romeo  and  Juliet,  III.  v.  21-2.) 
Shakespeare  comes  near  Du  Bartas's  '  L'alouette  tirelirant  vers  la  voute 
du  ciel\  but  here  the  English  poet  ignores  the  bird's  'tire-lire'. 


246  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

and  taught  it  far  and  wide.  Occasionally  but  rarely  in  old 
French,  double  words  were  used  figuratively  as  proper  nouns, 
chiefly  in  comic  verse  or  in  satiric  prose,  like  our  own 
'  Chicken-heart '  or  '  Hot-spur  '.  But  the  practice  was  rare, 
and  was  unrecognized  in  serious  literature.  Ronsard  pro- 
ceeded on  different  lines.  He  was  the  first  modern  European 
writer  to  create  adjectives  and  epithets  out  of  combinations 
of  two  separate  words  which  were  often  different  parts  of 

.speech,  and  he  claimed  that  his  'vocables  composez'  sufficiently 
differed  from  any  antique  pattern  to  secure  for  them  the  credit 
of  originality.  Examples  abound :  To  gold  he  applies  such 
epithets  as  chasse-peine  (trouble-chasing),  donne-vie  (life- 
giving),  osic-soiii  (care  dispersing).  The  sea  he  describes  as 
einbrace-teri-e  (earth -embracing),     A  mistress  is  distinguished 

j  as  aiine-joie(jpy-\m\x\^  ;  or  humble-Jiere  (humble  in  pride)  ; 
Jove  2iS  darde-toimerre  (thunder-darting);  Love  as  doux-auier 
(bitter-sweet). 

Ronsard's  '  vocables  composez '  are  to  be  reckoned  by 
hundreds,  and  follow  any  number  of  systems.  Now  he  joins 
together  two  nouns,  now  two  adjectives,  elsewhere  a  verb  and 
a  noun  or  a  noun  and  an  adjective.  He  is  extremely  fond  of 
prefacing  substantives  with  the  verbs  aiine-^porte-^  and  garde-. 
As  many  as  125  of  the  second  formation  and  50  of  the  first 
and  third  have  been  catalogued.  Adverbial  prefixes,  bieii-^ 
iiial-^  iion-^  deini-^  or  toiit-y  are  even  more  common.  The 
practice  was  accepted  loyally  and  eagerly  by  Ronsard's 
disciples,  and  some  greatly  extended  its  use.  In  Du  Bartas's 
religious  poem  oi  La  Seniaine  these  compound  epithets  are 
to  be  counted  l)y  the  gross,  and  descend  to  grotesque 
extravagances. 

The  compound  epithet  came  to  be  recognized  in  France  as 
a  peculiar  badge  of  the  Fleiade  and  a  chief  element  in  its 
reform  of  poetic  speech,  but  there  were  early  signs  that  the 
method  of  word- formation  was  capable  of  abuse.  When  in 
1579  jthe  affectations  of  the  school  were  submitted  to  fierce 
criticism    on    patriotic    grounds    by  Henri    Etienne,    in    La 

j  Precellence  du  laiigage  _fraiicois,  he  bitterly    complains  of 

1  the  excess  to  which  the  new  process  of  epithet-making  had 


THE  COMPOUND  EPITHET  247 

been  carried.  Etienne  regarded  the  practice,  when  worked 
with  discretion  and  moderation,  as  an  ornament  to  the  lan- 
guage. '  Hut,'  said  I'.tienne,  quoting  an  old  Greek  proverb, 
'  Ronsard  and  his  friends  had  sown  with  the  sack  and  not 
with  the  hand.'  ^ 

The  vogue  soon  spread  to  England,  The  compound  epithet 
is  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  gifts  which  the  lyric  effort  of 
the  Pleiade  made  to  the  vocabulary  of  Elizabethan  poetry. 
Nothing  resembling  it  is  found  in  l^^nglish  literature  of  an  earlier 
date,  and  on  its  arrival  in  Elizabethan  England  it  was  greeted 
as  a  stranger  from  Erance.  The  satirist  Joseph  Hall  noticed 
how  vSir  Philip  Sidney,  who  liberally  assimilated  Ronsardian 
as  well  as  Petrarchan  thought  and  expression,  'drew  new 
elegance  from  France.'  Hall  specified  the  English  poet's  habit 
'  in  epithets  to  join  two  words  in  one  '  as  the  chief  French  de- 
vice of  his  adoption.  Hall  sagaciously  deprecates  exaggera- 
tion of  the  habit,  which  is  readily  marred  by  excess  of  liberty  '.- 
Nashe  similarly  made  it  a  chief  reproach  against  the  English 
tongue  that  of  all  languages  it  most  '  swarmeth  with  the 
single  money  of  monosyllables '.  Nashe  argued  that  the  ■ 
defect  could  only  be  remedied  by  the  admission  of  '  com-  | 
pound  words '  from  abroad.  The  Pleiade  furnished  Shake-  ' 
speare's  contemporaries  with  the  chief  remedy  for  cure  of 
monosyllabic  tendencies,  and  they  availed  themselves  freely  of 
the  French  corrective. 

Sidney   may   claim   the   honour   of   first   introducing   the 
English    reader    to  Ronsard's   '  vocables  composez '.     In  his 


'  La  Prccellcnce,  ed.  Edmond  Huguet,  1896,  p.  163. 

•^  Hall's  Satires,  vi.  255  (of  the  modish  Elizabethan  poet). 

He  knows  the  grace  of  that  new  elegance 

Which  sweet  Philisidcs  fetch'd  of  late  from  France, 

That  well  beseem'd  his  high- styled  Arcady, 

Though  others  mar  it  with  much  liberty,     j 

In  epithets  to  join  two  words  in  one 

Forsooth,  for  adjectives  cannot  stand  alone : 

As  a  great  poet  could  of  Bacchus  say 

That  he  was  Semele-femori-gena. 
The  double  epithet  was  unknown  to  Lyly,  whose  Euphues  introduced 
many  other   affectations    into   English,  and,  although    he  is  sometimes 
loosely  credited  with  the  innovation  of  the  compound  epithet,  he  shows  no 
knowledge  of  it.     Sidney  is  the  pioneer  without  question. 


248  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

sonnets  to  vStella  many  epithets  are  found  on  such  models  as : 
love-acquainted  (eyes) ;  sour-breathed  (mate) ;  past  -  praise 
(hue)  ;  and  rose-enamelled  (skies). 

The  Arcadia  is  only  a  little  less  liberally  sprinkled  with  like 
ornaments.  In  his  Apologie  for  Poetrie,  Sidney  strongly 
urged  '  compositions  of  two  or  three  words  together  ',  and 
described  the  fashion  as  '  one  of  the  greatest  beauties  there  can 
be  in  a  language  '.  At  his  bidding  the  French  practice  rapidly 
spread  in  Elizabethan  poetry.  It  is  met  with  in  vSpenser' s  sonnets, 
and  in  the  Faerie  Queeiie.  '  Storm-beaten  '  and  '  heart-piercing ' 
are  two  of  many  compounds  of  Spenser's  invention  which  have 
passed  into  common  speech.  Among  the  poet  Daniel's  contri- 
butions to  the  long  list  of  Elizabethan  '  vocables  composez '  is 
the  far-famed  epithet  '  care-charmer ',  which  he  first  applied 
to  sleep.  There  the  English  poet  directly  translates  the  French 
'  chasse-soin  '  or  '  chasse-souci  ' — epithets  which  Pleiade  sonne- 
teers repeatedly  linked  with  '  sommeil '.  The  like  use  by  Greek 
poets  of  the  word  Xvainopos  suggests  the  ultimate  source  of 
French  inspiration,  but  Daniel,  loyal  to  the  custom  of  his  age, 
was  content  to  take  the  gift  direct  from  his  French  neighbours. 
The  highest  historic  interest  which  attaches  to  this  Ron- 
('  sardian  device  lies  in  Shakespeare's  liberal  adaptation  of  it  to 
purposes  of  both  lyric  and  dramatic  verse.  Every  reader  of 
Shakespeare's  text  will  recall  the  frequency  of  double  epithets 
which,  in  the  best  original  editions,  are,  as  in  the  French  books, 
carefully  hyphened  by  the  printer,  ^^ery  familiar  are  such 
examples  as  (our)  past-cure  (malady) ;  (my)  furnace-burning 
(heart) ;  honey-heavy  (dew^) ;  giant-rude  ;  fancy-free  ;  marble- 
constant.  These  compounds  are  typical  of  a  hundred  others. 
Occasionally  Shakespeare  somewhat  betters  Ronsard's  instruc- 
/  tion,  and  constructs  an  epithet  out  of  three  w^ords  instead  of 
'.  two,  as  in  'a  wor/d-Tu/^/io  n^- end  bargain' ,  'the  a  Iw  ays -ivii  id- 
obeying  deep '.  But  the  scheme  never  far  departs  from  the 
lines  laid  down  by  the  Pleiade.  Like  Henri  Etienne,  Shake- 
-  speare  perceived  the  vice  of  excess  in  the  usage,  and  \n  Love's 
Labour 's  Lost  he  ridicules  its  exaggeration.^    But  his  practical 

'  Arinado's  stilted  letter  to  the  king  (I.  i.  219  seq.)  contains  the  ten  fol- 
lowing compound  epithets:  sable-coloured,  black-oppressing,  health-giving, 


THE  THEORY  OE  PLAGIARISM  249 

recognition  of  value  in  the  discreet  application  of  the  process 
is  a  notable  tribute  to  the  influence  wrought  by  Erance  on  the 
vocabulary  of  Elizabethan  poetry. 

XI 

The  Renaissance  Theory  of  'Imitation' 

A  large  harvest  of  Elizabethan  poetry  is  clearly  seen  to 
assimilate  Erench  sentiment,  language,  and  metre.  Even  more 
notable  is  the  circumstance  that  many  leaders  of  the  literary 
profession  in  Elizabethan  England  should  have  put  forward  as 
original  compositions  and  as  declarations  of  personal  feeling,  \ 
a  number  of  poems  which  prove  on  examination  to  be  literal 
translations  from  the  Erench  or  Italian.  Before  we  extend 
our  comparative  inquiry  to  the  Elizabethan  sonnet,  which 
will  accentuate  the  borrowing  tendencies  of  the  Elizabethan 
muse,  it  may  be  prudent  to  estimate  the  ethical  significance 
which  attached  at  the  time  to  unavowed  practices  of  plagiarism. 

Unacknowledged  borrowing,  in  the  shape  of  literal  transla- 
tion either  of  complete  poems  or  of  substantial  extracts,  stands  j 
on  a  footing  very  different  from  that  of  assimilation,  which  is  a  • 
universal  law  of  poetry,  and  though  it  invites  study,  requires ;' 
no  excuse.      Plagiarism  of  foreign  authors  has  been  shown  \ 
to    be    common    enough    among   Elizabethan   lyrists  to  call 
for  judicial  inquiry.      Contemporary  critics   recognized  that 
the  habit  was  widespread,  and  at  times  condemned  it  with 
little  reservation.    Of  Soothern,  the  clumsy  but  tacit  translator 
of  Ronsard's  Odes  in  1584,  the  author  of  The  Arte  of  English 
Poesie  (1589)  wrote  : — '  This  man  deserues  to  be  endited  of 
pety  larce7iy  for  pilfering  other  men's  deuises  from  them  and 
conuerting  them  to  his  owne  use.'  ^     Other  offenders  on  the  like 

snow-white,  ebon-coloured,  curious-knotted,  low-spirited,  small-knowing, 
ever-esteemed,  heart-burning.  Although  Shakespeare  was  gently  satirizing 
the  process  here,  it  is  curious  to  note  that  three  of  these  invented  com- 
pounds, viz.  health-giving,  snow-white,  and  low-spirited,  found  a  permanent 
place  in  the  language. 

^  Puttenham,  Arte  of  English  Poesie,  ed.  .Arber,  1869,  p.  260  ;  passages 
which  precede  these  words  are  quoted  on  page  214,  note. 


A 


FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 


\ 


lines,  including  men  of  the  calibre  of  Daniel,  were  charged 
with  '  filching '  or  with  '  theft '. 

The  like  habit  was  well  known  abroad.  French  poets 
borrowed  from  classical  and  Italian  work  as  unceremo- 
niously as  the  F21izabethans  borrowed  from  French  and 
Italian  poetry.  Montaigne  is  severe  on  authors  who 
endeavoured  to  misrepresent  as  their  own  what  they  stole 
from  others.  The  French  essayist  imputed  to  such  procedure 
not  merely  injustice  but  cowardice.  Yet  Montaigne  admitted 
that  personally  he  could  never  resist  the  temptation  of 
pillaging  a  favourite  author.  Of  Plutarch  he  wrote  : — '  He 
can  no  sooner  come  in  my  sight,  or  if  I  cast  but  a  glance  upon 
him,  but  I  pull  some  leg  or  wing  from  him.'  The  plagiaristic 
tendency  both  in  F^ngland  and  France,  when  it  was  detected, 
was  condoned  in  literary  circles  as  often  as  it  was  denounced. 
It  was  held  capable  of  defence. 

There  was  frequently  urged  in  mitigation  of  censure,  if  not 
in  justification,  an  excuse  which,  while  it  savours  of  special 
pleading,  cannot  be  refused  weight.  Ben  Jonson,  who 
ranked  high  among  the  Elizabethan  giants,  borrowed  whole- 
sale without  specific  acknowledgement.  Dryden  called  him 
'  a  learned  plagiary  '  of  all  other  authors.  '  You  track  him 
everywhere  in  their  snow.'  '  But '  (Dryden  adds  elsewhere) 
'  one  may  see  he  fears  not  to  be  taxed  by  any  law.  He 
invades  authors  like  a  monarch.'  ^  In  general  terms  Jonson 
denied  offence  in  the  habit.  With  frank  self-complacency 
he  explained :  '  Whatsoever  I  pawned  with  my  memory 
while  I  was  young  and  a  boy,  it  offers  me  readily  and 
without  stops  [in  my  old  age].'^  But  the  process  of  uncon- 
scious cerebration  hardly  accounts  for  the  details  of  the  practice 
in  the  case  either  of  Ben  Jonson  or  of  his  comrades.  More 
illuminating  is  Jonson's  further  argument  that  it  was  an 
essential  requisite  in  a  poet  to  be  able  consciously  to  convert 
the  substance  or  riches  of  another  poet  to  his  own  use,  even  to 
the  extent  of  a  literal  adoption  of  the  foreign  poet's  language. 
This  second  plea  offers  a  practicable  key  to  the  problem. 

'  Essays  of  John  Uryden,  ed.  W.  P.  Ker,  i.  43,  82. 
'^  Ben  Jonson,  Discoveries,  ed.  Schelling,  p.  18. 


I 


THE  INTERPRETATION  OI<   'IMITATIO' 


i.^)i 


There  was  abroad    a   scholastic   conception  of  the  art   of 
poetry  which    minimized,  if  it  (h'd   not  cancel,  the  apparent 
reproach    of  the   plagiarizing   tendency.      The    truth    of  the 
familiar  late  Latin  adage,  '  orator  fit,  poeta  nascitur,'  was  not 
questioned.     The  great  poet  was  held  to  be  divinely  inspired. 
But  something  more  was  expected  of  him  than  to  be,  with  the 
lunatic  and  the  lover,  '  of  imagination  all  compact.'    A  current 
gloss  on  the  proverb  presumed  (in  Ben  Jonson's  words)  that 
'  the  good  poet 's  made  as  well  as  born  '.     The  Renaissance 
critics    reached     their     conclusion    that     good    poetry     was, 
in    part    an    article    of    manufacture,   through    a    somewhat  1 
perverted  interpretation  of  the  classical  doctrine  of  fMLfiTja-i^Ji 
or  ijiiiiatio^  as  applied  to  literary  composition.     The  term  was  | 
assumed  to  connote  not  merely  imitation  of  life  or  nature,  but  j 
also  and  often  primarily  imitation  of  pre-existing  literature.       J 

Renaissance  critics  in  all  countries  acknowledged  without 
much  demur  that  in  Greek  literature  human  genius  reached 
its  zenith,  and  that  Latin  literature  owed  its  value  to 
habitual  imitation  of  the  Greek.  There  followed,  not  quite 
logically,  the  scholastic  inference  that  the  merit  of  literature 
grew  in  proportion  to  its  dependence  on  what  went  before. 
In  most  authoritative  handbooks  on  literary  composition 
a  section  on  '  imitation  '  filled  a  chief  place,  and  pressed  this 
assumption  to  the  uttermost.^  It  was  never  denied  that  other 
elements  went  to  the  making  of  poetry.  Ben  Jonson  defined 
poetry  as  a  compound  mingled  of  four  simples :  first  a 
goodness  of  natural  wit  {iiigeniwn) ;  second,  exercise  of 
native  powers  [exerciiaiio) ;  thirdly,  imitation  {ivtitatio) ; 
fourthly,  an  exactness  of  study  and  multiplicity  of  reading 
{lectio).  But  his  comment  on  the  fourth  element  {lectio) 
brings  it  near  the  third  element  {imitatio)  ;  and  when  he 
warns  the  poet  against  thinking  '  he  can  leap  forth  suddenly 
a  poet  by  dreaming  he  hath  been  in  Parnassus,  or  having 

^  Roger  Ascham  in  his  Schoolmastcy^  1570,  devotes  many  pages 
(ed.  Mayor,  pp.  135-9)  to  the  discussion  of  '  Imitation  '.  Ascham  mainly 
embodies  the  instruction  of  the  Strasburg  humanist  Johann  Sturm  in  his 
De  Imitatione.  Ascham  argues  that  perfect  style  is  the  exclusive  pro- 
perty of  Greek  and  Latin,  and  must  be  sought  there  by  writers  in  all  other 
tongues.     {Schoolmaster,  ed.  Mayor,  p.  167.) 


252  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

washed  his  lips  as  they  say  in  Helicon  ',  he  implies  that  poetic 
inspiration  is  of  small  service  without  both  erudition  and 
imitation. 1  The  authority  of  the  Frenchman  vScaliger,  the 
greatest  critic  of  the  Renaissance,  was  well  recognized  in 
Elizabethan  England.  It  was  he  who  summed  up  the  dominant 
conception  of  poetic  imitation  in  the  maxim  that  '  every  poet 
is  something  of  an  echo  ',  '  nemo  est  qui  non  aliquid  de  Echo.' 
From  such  a  premise  there  not  unnaturally  followed  the 
deduction  that  copying  was  not  necessarily  inconsistent  with 
the  fundamental  elements  of  poetic  art  or  the  essential 
conditions  of  poetic  success.^  Translation  was  invariably 
/  regarded  in  continental  Europe  as  one  of  the  worthiest  forms 
of  scholarship,  and  it  was  generally  accounted  no  less  glorious 
adequately  to  turn  foreign  verse  or  prose  into  one's  native 
tongue,  than  to  write  anything  new.'^  '  Imitation  '  was  capable 
of  many  gradations  in  the  judgement  of  the  critics,  but  no 
form  need  on  principle  be  other  than  an  honourable  handmaid 
of  genius.  However  perilous  or  sophistical  the  argument,  it  is 
needful  to  bear  it  in  mind  when  we  detect  F^lizabethan  lyrists 
of  repute  circulating  as  of  their  own  invention  poems  which 
they  had  translated  with  fidelity  from  the  work  of  Ronsard, 
his  friends  or  his  disciples. 

XII 

The  Assimilation  of  the  French  Sonnet 

An  examination  of  the  Elizabethan  sonnet-sequence  shows 
the  assimilative  and  imitative  processes  to  which  all  Elizabethan 
lyric  was  more  or  less  subject,  in  an  activity  that  is  more 
penetrating  and  comprehensive  than  elsewhere.  The  English 
sonnet,  which   came   to   birth    in    Henry  VIII's    reign,   was 

*  Jonson,  Discoveries,  ed.  Schclling,  pp.  75-8. 

-  A  good  summary  account  of  the  doctrine  of  imitation  is  given  by 
Prof.  J.  E.  Spingarn  in  A  History  of  Literary  Criticism  in  the  Renais- 
sance, New  York,  1899,  pp.  130  seq. 

'  Vida,  the  leading  critical  authority  of  the  Italian  Renaissance  in  his 
De  Arte  Poetica  (1527),  well  sums  up  the  situation  thus  : 

Haud  minor  est  adeo  virtus,  si  te  audit  Apollo, 
Inventa  Argivum  in  patriam  convertere  vocem, 
Ouam  si  tute  aliquid  intactum  inveneris  ante. 


THE  ELIZABETHAN  SONNET  253 

born  of  Italian  effort,  l^ut  the  sparse  sonneteering  experi- 
ment of  W'yatt  and  vSiurey  was  an  isolated  episode  in  our 
literary  history.  The  Elizabethan  sonnet  was  no  mere  fruit 
of  the  early  Tudor  stock,  although  in  course  of  later  develop- 
ment it  borrowed  thence  a  metrical  suggestion  of  im- 
portance. The  Elizabethan  sonnet  was  practically  a  fresh 
development  in  Elizabethan  England.  At  the  outset  it  was 
independently  imported  not  from  Italy  but  from  Erance. 
Edmund  Spenser,  the  father  of  the  Elizabethan  cjuatorzain, 
introduced  in  boyhood  the  sonnet  into  Elizabethan  England 
with  a  translation  of  sonnets  by  Du  Bellay.  The  seed  was 
slow  to  fructify.  At  first  the  Elizabethan  growth  was  scanty 
and  occasional.  Not  until  Queen  Elizabeth  s  reign  was  nearing 
its  last  decade  did  it  acquire  luxuriance.  Then  the  scene 
changed,  and  sonneteering  became  an  imperious  vogue,  a 
fashionable  recreation,  a  modish  artifice  of  gallantry  and  com- 
pliment. No  poetic  aspirant  between  1590  and  1610  failed  to 
try  his  skill  on  this  poetic  instrument.  During  those  twenty 
years  probably  more  sonnets  were  penned  in  England  than  in 
all  the  ages  that  followed. 

The  harvest  of  Elizabethan  sonneteering  is  a  strange  medley 
of  sublimity  and  pathos.  The  workers  in  the  field  included 
Sidney,  Spenser,  and  Shakespeare,  who,  in  varying  degrees, 
invested  this  poetic  form  with  charm  and  beauty.  Shake- 
speare, above  all,  breathed  into  the  sonnet  a  lyric  melody  and 
a  meditative  energy  which  no  writer  of  any  country  has  sur- 
passed. It  is  the  value  attaching  to  the  sonneteering  efforts 
of  this  great  trio  of  Elizabethan  poets,  and  to  some  rare  and 
isolated  triumphs  of  their  contemporaries,  Daniel,  Drayton, 
and  Constable,  which  lends  the  Elizabethan  sonnet  its  aesthetic 
interest.  The  profuse  experiments  of  other  Elizabethan 
sonneteers  rarely  touched  high  levels  of  poetic  performance. 
Very  few  were  capable  of  any  sustained  flight  in  the  lofty 
regions  of  the  imagination.  The  most  prolific  pens  betrayed 
indeed  a  normal  crudeness  and  a  clumsiness  of  thought  and 
language  which  invited  and  justified  ridicule. 

Despite  the  miraculous  masterpieces  of  Shakespeare  and 
the  occasional  successes  of  other  English  pens  which  were 


254  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

rarely  matched  abroad,  the  general  standard  of  performance  in 
points  of  grace  and  melody  was  higher  in  France,  if  not  in 
Italy,  than   in   h^ngland.     The  grotesque  aicophonies  which 
characterized  much  Elizabethan  effort  were  unheard  across  the 
Channel.     Vast,  too,  as  was  the  output  of  Elizabethan   son- 
neteers, they  produced  far  less  than  their  French  or  Italian 
/  neighbours.    Probably  ten  times  as  many  sonnets  were  penned 
\   by  the  chieftains  of  the-Eleiadg  and  their  follow^ers,  or  by  the 
1  masters  of  the  Italian  school  of  the  sixteenth  century,  as  by 
LShakespeare  and  his  contemporaries. 

The  sonnet  in  Elizabethan  England  of  all  degrees  of  merit 
or  demerit  never  lost  altogether  the  savour  of  a  foreign  origin. 
In  the  sentiment  and  imagery  no  less  than   in  the  metrical 

\ shape  a  foreign  parentage  is  commonly  traceable.  France 
and  Italy  are  the  joint  progenitors.  vSoon  after  Spenser  had 
inaugurated  the  sonneteering  vogue  on  a  French  model, 
Italian  influence  came  afresh  upon  the  English  stage.  The 
revived  Italian  influence  proved  a  formidable  rival  to  the 
French,  but  it  never  extinguished  the  French  sway. 
Elizabethan  sonneteers  came  to  absorb  at  first  hand  much 
of  the  poetry  of  Petrarch,  Ariosto,  and  Tasso ;  yet  they 
were  never  neglectful  of  Ronsard,  Du  Bellay,  and  Desportes. 
Some  of  the  Italian  inspiration  was  drawn  indirectly  from 
French  adaptation  or  translation  of  the  Italian.  The  Ehza- 
bethan  sonneteers  threw  their  nets  widely  in  both  French 
and  Italian  waters.  The  sonneteering  rank  and  fde  in  France 
and  Italy  fell  within  range  of  the  Elizabethan  aim,  and  many 
obscure  disciples  of  Ronsard  or  Tasso  became  as  large  creditors 
of  the  Elizabethans  as  those  masters  themselves. 

The  debt  of  the  Elizabethan  sonnet  to  Italian  poetry  cannot 
be  debated  here.  But  the  omission  does  not  seriously  diminish 
the  efficiency  of  the  present  argument.  Frequently  as  was 
the  work  of  Petrarch,  Ariosto,  and  Tasso,  and  of  smaller 
Italian  poets  pressed  into  the  Elizabethan  service,  the 
Elizabethan  sonneteers  more  often  and  more  freely  took 
their  cue  from  the  work  of  Ronsard,  Du  Bellay,  Desportes, 
and  other  Frenchmen.  vShakespeare  ow^ed  more  to  French 
than    to    Italian    tuition.       His   lyric    poetry   lay   under    far 


THE  TRANSLATION  OF  FRENCH  SONNETS  255 

smaller  obligation  than  that  of  his  fellows  to  foreign  masters. 
His  indebtedness  is  slight  when  it  is  contrasted  with  the 
repeated  dependence  of  his  fellows  on  the  precise  phraseology 
as  well  as  on  the  precise  ideas  of  the  Pleiade.  But  thought  and 
expression  in  Shakespeare's  sonnets  reflect  too  often  and  too 
closely  a  French  strain  to  justify  the  theory  of  fortuitous  coinci- 
dence. In  many  other  lili/.abethan  sonnet-sequences  there  figure 
not  merely  separate  quatrains,  but  whole  sonnets  which  are 
silently  and  unblushingly  translated  from  foreign,  and  more 
especially  from  French  collections.  When  some  Elizabethan 
sonnet-sequences  are  fully  analysed,  they  are  found  to  be 
haphazard  mosaics  of  French  or  Italian  originals.  Constable,  \  , 
Daniel,  and  Lodge,  who  all  enjoyed  high  repute  as  Elizabethan 
sonneteers,  were  the  most  conspicuous  offenders.  Even 
Spenser  falls  at  times  under  the  same  indictment.  The  habit 
of  literal  transference  without  acknowledgement  spread  further 
in  the  sonneteering  work  of  the  Elizabethans  than  in  any 
other  direction.  There  are  occasional  deviations  from  the 
French  text  in  the  borrowed  poems  ;  but  the  alterations  often 
merely  suggest  a  temporary  failure  of  ingenuity  on  the  part 
of  the  Elizabethan  translator  in  anghcizing  the  French 
language. 

It  was  w^hen  the  sonneteering  rage  was  at  its  full  height  in^ 
England,  between  1591  and  1597,  that  the  indebtedness  to  the 
Pleiade  is  most  apparent.  After  Spenser's  boyish  translations 
from  Du  Bellay's  sonnets,  which  came  out  in  1569,  thirteen 
years  intervened  before  a  further  attempt  w^as  made  to  popu- 
larize the  sonnet  in  England.  Then  there  appeared  Watson's 
Hecato7upathia,  oi'  Passiona/e  Ceiiturie  of  Love,  a  volume 
which,  although  it  is  introduced  by  a  few  regular  quatorzains, 
mainly  present  as  '  sonnets '  short  poems  of  eighteen  in- 
stead of  fourteen  lines  each.  Lyric  pieces  of  this  pattern 
constantly  interrupt,  under  the  Italian  name  of  madrigal,  the 
continuity  of  contemporary  sonnet  collections  of  France  as 
well  as  Italy.  Watson  in  a  prefatory  note  to  each  of  his 
poems  quotes  Latin,  Italian,  or  French  sources  for  them  all. 
Ronsard  is  duly  named  among  his  authorities.  Watson's 
dependence  on  foreign   effort  is  too  widely  distributed  ;    he 


256  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

is  too  negligent  of  the  metrical  rules  of  the  sonnet,  and  the 
quality  of  his  work  is  too  halting  to  claim  much  notice. 
Watson's  successor  as  poet  and  sonneteer  was  of  far  higher 
calibre.  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  collection  of  sonnets  called  Asiro- 
phel and  Stella  gives  the  first  sign  of  the  English  sonnet's  poetic 
capacity.  Sidney's  sonnets  were  composed  in  the  last  years  of 
vSidney's  life,  which  ended  in  1586,  and  after  circulating  widely 
in  manuscript  were  first  published  in  1^91.  It  was  with  their 
publication  that  the  rage  for  sonneteering  in  Elizabethan 
England  caught  fire,  and  the  flame  burned  briskly  till  near 
the  close  of  the  century.^ 

None  who  is  widely  read    in  the  sonnets  of  Ronsard  or 

'  It  is  necessary  to  bear  in  mind  some  dates  in  the  history  of  the 
Elizabethan  sonnet.  The  chronology  of  the  Elizabethan  sonnet-seqaence 
opens  with  the  publication  of  Spenser's  sonnet-renderings  of  poems  by 
Du  Bellay  and  Marot  in  A  Tlieatre  for  Worldlings^  1569.  Thomas 
Watson's  Hecatompathia,  or  Passionate  Centiirie  of  Love,  a  collection 
of  irregular  'sonnets',  came  out  in  1582,  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  Astrophel 
and  Stella  in  1 591,  and  Spenser's  rendering  of  Du  Bellay's  sonnet- 
sequence  called  TJie  Ruins  of  Ronie,  with  a  revised  version  of  his 
earlier  rendering  from  Du  Bellay,  in  ComplaiJits  in  the  same  year. 
Samuel  Daniel's  Z^<2//tz  and  Henry  Constable's  Diana  first  appeared  in 
1592,  both  to  be  revised  and  enlarged  two  years  later.  Three  ample 
collections  followed  in  1593;  they  came  from  the  pens  respectively  of 
Barnabe  Barnes  {Par f/ienophil and  Par t/ienophe), Thorns.?,  Lodge  (P/iillis), 
and  Giles  Fletcher  {Lieia},  while  Watson's  second  venture  (T/ie  Tears  of 
Fancy)  was  then  published  posthumously  and  for  the  first  time.  Three 
more  volumes,  in  adtiition  to  the  revised  editions  of  Daniel's  Delia  and 
Constable's  Diana,  appeared  in  1594,  viz.  William  Percy's  Coelia,  an 
anonymous  writer's  Zepheria,  and  Michael  Drayton's  Ideas  Mirrotir  (in  its 
first  shape).  Y..  C.'s  Eniaricdiclfe,  Edmund  Spenser's y^;;/^';r/'//  and  K.  Barn- 
field's  Cynthia  with  certaine  sonnets,  came  out  in  1595,  and  Grififin's 
Fidessa,  Linche's  Diella,  and  William  Smith's  Chloris  in  1596.  Finally, 
in  1597,  the  procession  was  joined  by  Robert  Tofte's  Laura,  a  pale  re- 
flection of  Petrarch's  eftbrt  (as  the  name  implied),  travelling  far  from  the 
metrical  principles  of  the  genuine  form  of  sonnet.  To  the  same  period 
belongs  the  composition,  although  the  pubiicatii  n  was  long  delayed,  of 
the  Scottish  poet  Sir  William  Alexander's  Aurora,  and  of  the  Coelica 
of  Sidney's  friend,  Sir  Fulke  Greville,  besides  the  sonnets  of  William 
Drummond  of  Hawthornden  and  Alexander  Montgomerie.  Various  dates 
have  been  assigned  by  the  critics  to  Shakespeare's  sonnets,  which  were 
not  published  till  1609.  The  majority  of  them,  in  the  present  writer's 
opinion,  were  written  well  before  1600  (see  his  Life  of  Shakespeare, 
6th  ed.,  1908,  and  the  Introduction  to  the  Oxford  facsimile  of  the  first 
edition,  1905).  In  addition  to  these  secular,  and,  for  the  most  part, 
amorous  sonnet-sequences,  there  were  published  during  the  same  period 
large  collections  of  devotional  or  spiritual  sonnets,  as  well  as  an  immense 
number  of  detached  commendatory  sonnets,  addressed  by  poets  to  their 
patrons. 


THE  MISTRESSKS  OF  THE  SONNETEERS    257 

Du  Bellay  fails  to  perceive  the  foreign  echoes  in  Sidney's 
sonnets.  The  appeals  to  sleep,  to  the  nightingale,  to  the 
moon,  to  his  bed,  to  his  mistress's  dog,  resemble  the  apo- 
strophes of  the  foreign  sonneteers  too  closely  to  make  their  I 
foreign  inspiration  doubtful.  Echoing  Persius,  Sidney  protests, 
'  I  am  no  pickpurse  of  another's  wit.'  Yet  the  spirit  no  less 
than  the  form  of  his  sonnets  attests  his  foreign  discipleship. 
But  on  the  whole,  Sidney's  work  is  more  reminiscent  oi 
Petrarch  than  of  the  Pleiade,  and  his  indebtedness  to  both 
stimulated  rather  than  dulled  the  vivacity  of  his  poetic  powers.^ 
It  is  in  the  sonnet  collections  that  follow  the  publication  of 
Sidney's  Astrophel  and  Stella  that  the  French  influence 
becomes  full-fledged.  But  the  bond  of  union  between  the 
French  '  amours '  and  the  later  Elizabethan  sonnet-sequences 
is  not  announced  on  English  title-pages.  No  debt  is  acknow- 
ledged in  English  prefaces.  The  Elizabethans  usually  gave 
the  fictitious  mistresses  after  whom  their  volumes  of  amorous 
sonnets  were  called  the  names  that  had  recendy  served  the 
like  purpose  in  France,  but  they  silendy  adopted  the  nomen- 
clature. Daniel  followed  a  somewhat  early  French  versifier, 
Maurice  Sceve,  in  christening  his  coUecdon  Delia;  Constable 
followed  Despbrtes  in  designating  his  collection  Diana  ;  while 
Drayton,  who  applied  to  his  sonnets  on  his  title-page,  in  1594, 
the  French  term  '  amours  ',  bestowed  on  his  imaginary  heroine 
the  title  of  Idea,  which  seems  to  have  been  the  invention  of 
Claude  de  Pontoux,  although  it  was  employed  by  other  French  \ 
contemporaries.  Pontoux,  a  poet -physician  of  Chalons,  pub-  ' 
lished  in  1579  an  ample  collection  of  sonnets  under  the  title 
L'ldee,  and  Drayton's  '  Divine  Idea',  his  'Fair  Idea',  is  nearly 
akin  to  Pontoux's  '  Celeste  Idee  fiUe  de  Dieu'  (Sonnet  X).^ 
Again,  Pkillis,  the  rustic  heroine  of  Lodge's  sonnets  and 
lyrics,    had    already     received    the    airy  addresses   of  much 

^  The  general  history  of  the  Elizabethan  sonnet  has  already  been 
treated  by  the  present  writer  in  his  Introduction  to  Elizabethan  Sonnets 
(Constable's  English  Garner,  1904)  and  in  the  chapter  on  the  Elizabethan 
Sonnet  in  the  Cambridge  History  of  Literature,  vol.  iii,  pp.  247  sq. 

2  The  name  of  Pontoux  and  Drayton's  heroine  symbolizes  the  Platonic 
lUa  of  beauty,  which  was  often  apostrophized  in  the  sonnets  of  Du  Bellay 
and  Pontus  de  Tyard,  two  leaders  of  the  Pleiade. 

LEE  t) 


258  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

French  verse,  notably  from  the  tuneful  pastoral  muse  of 
Vauquelin  de  la  Fresnaie.  The  ultimate  classical  source  of  all 
these  appellations  of  poetic  mistresses  does  not  weaken  the 
evidence  that  they  entered  English  poetry  through  French 
avenues. 

In  all  the  sonnet  collections  of  the  professional  men  of  letters 
of  Elizabethan  England  not  only  do  proofs  of  assimilation 
abound,  but  the  instances  of  literal  transference  and  of 
paraphrase  without  acknowledgement  are  embarrassingly 
numerous.^  A  few  illustrations  of  the  process  of  direct 
'  imitation  '  are  all  that  can  be  cited  here.  I  give  first  five 
examples  of  how  the  work  of  Du  Bellay,  Ronsard,  and 
Desportes  was  directly  rendered  into  English  by  men  of 
the  literary  reputation  of  Daniel,  Lodge,  and  Constable,  all 
of  whom  enjoyed  in  their  day  a  high  repute  as  original 
writers  of  sonnets. 

Du  Bellay,  Olive,  x.  Daniel,  Delia,  xiv. 

Ces    cheveux    d'or   sont   les   liens,  These  amber- locks  are  those  same 

Madame,  nets,  my  Dear! 

Dont  fut  premier  ma  liberie  sur-  Wherewith  my  liberty  thou  didst 

prise,  surprise ! 

Amour,    la    flamme    autour    du  Love  was  the  flame  that  fired  me 

coeur  eprise,  so  near: 

Ces  yeux,  le  traict  qui  me  trans-  The  dart  transpiercing  were  those 

perce  Tame.  crystal  eyes. 

Forts  sont  les  nceuds,  aspre  et  vive  Strong  is  the  net,  and  fervent  is  the 

la  flamme,  flame ; 

Le  coup,  de   main   a  tirer   bien  Deep  is  the  stroke,^  my  sighs  do 

apprise,  well  report. 

Et  toutcsfois   i'ayme,  i'adore,  et  Yet  I  do  love,  adore,  and  praise 

prise  the  same 

Ce  qui  m'estraint,  qui  me  brusle,  That     holds,    that    burns,    that 

et  entame.  wounds  in  this  sort ; 


^  The  reader  should  study  the  evidence  of  Elizabethan  indebtedness 
to  the  French  which  Prof.  L.  E.  Kastner  has  brought  together  in  five 
valuable  papers  which  he  contributed  to  the  Modern  Language  Review. 
The  papers  are  entitled  respectively  '  The  Scottish  Sonneteers  and  the 
French  poets'  (October,  1907),  'The  Elizabethan  Sonneteers  and  the 
French  poets'  (April,  1908), '  Spenser's  Amoretti  and  Desportes  '  (January, 
1909),  'Drummond  of  Hawthornden  and  the  poets  of  the  Pleiade'  (April, 
1909),  and  '  Drummond  of  Hawthornden  and  the  French  Poets  of  the 
Sixteenth  Century'  (Jan.   1910). 

'^  The  original  reading,  which  Daniel  afterwards  altered  to  'snary'. 

'  The  original  reading,  which  Daniel  afterwards  altered  to  '  wound '. 


IMITATION  OF  FRENCH  SONNETS 


259 


Pour  briser  doncq',  pour  esteindre 
et  giierir 
Ce  dur  lien,  ceste  ardeur,  ceste 

playe, 
le  ne  quiers  fer,  liqueur,  ny  mede- 
cine : 
L'heur  et  plaisir  que  ce  m'est  de 
pe'rir 
De   telle    main,   ne   pernict    que 

i'essaye 
Glaive  trenchant,  ny  froideur,  ny 
racine. 


And  list  not  seek  to  break, to  quench, 

to  heal 
The  bond,  the  flame,  the  wound 

that  festereth  so, 
15y  knife,  by  liquor,  or  by  sahe 

to  deal : 
So  much  I  please  to  perish  in  my 

woe. 
Yet,  lest  long  travails  be  above 

my  strength, 
Good     Delia  !      loose,     quench, 

heal  me,  now  at  length  ! 


DesPORTES,  Cleonicc,  Ixii. 

Je  verray  par  les  ans,  vengeurs  de 

mon  martire, 
Que  I'or  de  vos  cheveux  argente 

deviendra, 
Que  de  vos  deux  soleils  la  splen- 

deur  s'esteindra, 
Et    qu'il    faudra   qu'Amour   tout 

confus  s'en  retire. 
La  beaute  qui,  si  douce,  a  pre'sent 

vous  inspire, 
Cedant   aux   lois   du  temps,  ses 

faveurs  reprendra ; 
L'hiver  de  vostre  teint  les  fleu- 

rettes  perdra, 
Et  ne  laissera  rien  des  thresors 

que  j'admire. 
Get   orgueil  desdaigneux  qui  vous 

fait  ne  m'aimer, 
En    regret   et   chagrin    se   verra 

transformer, 
Avec  le  changement  d'une  image 

si  belle, 
Et  peutestre  cju'alors  vous  n'aurez 

deplaisir 
De  revivre  en  mes  vers,  chauds 

d'amoureux  desir, 
Ainsi   que   le   phenix   au   feu    se 

renouvelle. 


Daniel,  Delia,  xxxiii. 

I  once  may  see,  when  years  may 

wreak  my  wrong. 
And  golden  hairs  may  change  to 

silver  wire  : 
And  those  bright  rays  (that  kindle 

all  this  fire) 
Shall   fail  in   force,  their  power 

not  so  strong. 
Her  beauty  now  the  burden  of  my 

song. 
Whose  glorious  blaze  the  world's 

eye  doth  admire, 
Must  yield  her  praise   to  tyrant 

Time's  desire ; 
Then  fades  the  flower,  which  fed 

her  pride  so  long. 
When  if  she  grieve  to  gaze  her  in 

her  glass. 
Which  then  presents  her  winter- 
withered  hue. 
Go  you   my   verse  ?   go  tell  her 

what  she  was  ! 
For  what    she  was,  she    best    may 

find  in  you. 
Your  fiery  heat  lets  not  her  glory 

pass, 
But  Phoenix-like  to  make  her  live 

anew. 


S  2 


26o  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 


RONSARD,  Amours,  I.  xxxii. 
(Hiand   au    premier    la    dame    que 

j'adorc 
De     ses     beautez   \m\.     embellir 

les  cieux, 
Le   fils  de  Rhee  appela  tons  les 

dieux 
Pour  faire  encor  d'elle  une  autre 

Pandore. 
Lors  ApoUon  richement  la  decore, 
Or'  de  ses  rais  luy  fa9onnant  les 

yeux, 
Or'  luy  dormant  son  chant  melo- 

dieux, 
Or'  son  oracle  et  ses  beaux  vers 

encore. 
Mars  luy  donna  sa  fiere  cruaute, 
Venus  son  ris,  Diane  sa  beaute, 
Pithon  sa  voix,  Ceres  son  abon- 

dance, 
L'Aube    ses    doigts    et    ses    crins 

delies, 
Amour  son  arc,  Thetis  donna  ses 

pies, 
Clion    sa    gloire,    et    Pallas    sa 

prudence. 


RONSARD,  Amours,   I.  cxix. 
Franc  de  raison,  esclave  de  fureur, 
Je  vay  chassant  une  fere  sauvage, 
Or'  sur  un  mont.  or'  le  long  d'un 

rivage, 
Or'  dans  le  bois  de  jeunesse  et 

d'erreur. 
J 'ay  pour  ma  laisse  un  long  trait  de 

malheur, 
J 'ay  pour  limier  un  trop  ardent 

courage, 
J'ay  pour  mes  chiens  I'ardeur  et 

le  jeune  age, 
J'ay  pour  piqueurs  I'espoir  et  la 

douleur. 
Mais  eux,  voyans  que  plus  elle  est 

chassee, 
Loin,   loin,  devant    plus    s'enfuit 

elancee, 
Tournant  sur  moi  leur  rigoureux 

effort, 
Comme    mastins    affames    de    re- 

paistre, 
A  longs  morceaux  se  paissent  de 

leur  maistre, 
Et  sans  mercy  me  trainent  a  la 

mort. 


Lodge,  Phillis,  xxxiii. 
When  first  sweet  Phillis,  whom  I 

most  adore, 
"Gan  with  her  beauties  bless  our 

wond'ring  sky. 
The  son  of  Rhea,  from  their  fatal 

store 
Made  all  the  gods  to  grace  her 

majesty. 
Apollo  first  his  golden  rays  among. 
Did  form  the  beauty  of  her  boun- 
teous eyes  ; 
He    graced    her   with   his    sweet 

melodious  song, 
And    made    her    subject    of   his 

poesies. 
The  warrior  Mars  bequeathed  her 

fierce  disdain, 
Venus  her  smile,  and  Phoebe  all 

her  fair, 
Python  his  voice,  and  Ceres  all 

her  grain. 
The    morn    her   locks   and   fingers 

did  repair. 
Young  Love  his  bow,  and  Thetis 

gave  her  feet ; 
Clio  her  praise,  Pallas  her  science 

sweet. 

Lodge,  Phillis,  xxxi. 
Devoid  of  reason,  thrall  to  foolish 

ire, 
I  walk  and  chase  a  savage  fairy 

still. 
Now  near  the  flood,  straight  on 

the  mounting  hill. 
Now  midst  the  woods  of  youth, 

and  vain  desire. 
For  leash  I  bear  a  cord  of  careful 

grief; 
For  brach  I  lead  an  overforward 

mind  ; 
My   hounds    are    thoughts,   and 

rage  despairing  blind. 
Pain,  cruelty,  and   care   without 

relief. 
Put  they,  perceiving  that  my  swift 

pursuit 
My  flying  fairy  cannot  overtake, 
With  open  mouths  their  prey  on 

me  do  make, 
Like  hungry  hounds  that  lately  lost 

their  suit, 
.A.nd  full  of  fury  on  their  master 

feed, 
To  hasten  on  my  hapless  death 

with  speed. 


IMITATION  OF  FRENCH  SONNETS 


261 


Desportks,  Ih'ii/h-,  I.  xxvi. 

Mon  Dieu  !  mon  Dieu  !  que  j'aime 

ma  deesse 
Et  de  son  chef  les  tre'sors  pre- 

cieux ! 
Mon     Dieu  !     mon     Dieu  !     que 

j'aime  ses  beaux  yeux, 
Dont    I'un    m'est    doux,    Tautre 

plein  de  rudesse ! 
Mon  Dieu!  mon  Dieu!  que  j'aime 

la  sagesse 
De  ses  discours,  qui  laviroient  les 

Dieux, 
Et  la  douceur  de  son  ris  gracieux, 
Et  de  son  port  la  royale  hautesse  ! 


CONSlAliLE,  Diana,  Decade  VI, 

Sonnet  x. 

My  (]od,  my  (Tod,  how  much  1  love 

my  goddess  ! 
Whose    virtues    rare,    unto    the 

heavens  arise. 
My  (iod,  my  Cod,  how  much   I 

love  her  eyes  ! 
One  shining  bright,  the  other  full 

of  hardness. 
My  (iod,  my  God,  how  much  I  love 

her  wisdom  ! 
Whose  words  may  ravish  heaven's 

richest  'maker' ; 
Of  whose  eyes' joys,  if  I  might  be 

partaker. 
Then    to    my   soul,   a   holy   rest 

would  come. 
My  God,  how  much  I  love  to  hear 

her  speak  ! 
Whose  hands  1  kiss,  and  ravished 

oft  rekisseth ; 
When  she  stands  wotless,  whom 

so  much  she  blesseth. 
Say  then,   what  mind  this   honest 

love  would  break; 
Since  her  perfections  pure,  with- 

outen  blot, 
Makes  her  beloved  of  them,  she 

knoweth  not  ? 


Mon   Dieu  !    que  j'aime  ^i  me  res- 
souvenir 
Du  tans  qu'Amour  me   fist   serf 

devenir  ! 
Toujours     depuis    j'adore     mon 
servage. 
Mon  mal  me  plaist  plus  il  est  vio- 
lant  ; 
Un  feu  si  beau  m'egaye  en  me 

brulant, 
Et  la   rigueur  est  douce  en  son 
visage. 

In  none  of  these  examples  is  there  genuine  originality  in 
diction  or  sentiment  on  the  part  of  the  Elizabethan  sonneteer. 
Constable's  final  sestet  here  strays  somewhat  from  the  original. 
But  he  atones  for  any  freedom  at  the  close  by  his  servility  at 
the  opening.  Lodge  is  probably  most  loyal  to  his  original, 
but  Daniel  runs  him  hard.  Hardly  a  sonnet  that  Lodge 
published  cannot  be  traced  to  a  foreign  source.^ 

This  literal  method  is  often  exchanged  for  imitative 
paraphrase  which  improves  on  the  original.  In  Spenser's 
case  no  imputation  of  slavish  borrowing  can  be  sustained. 
But  Desportes  was  clearly  a  dominant  master  of  Spenser's 
sonneteering  muse,  and  the  relationship  between  the  French 
tutor  and  his  English  pupil  may  be  deduced  from  a  careful 
comparison  of  the  two  sonnets  which  follow: 

1  Besides  Ronsard  and  Desportes,  Lodge  pillaged  with  equal  freedom 
sonnets  by  Ariosto,  Petrarch,  Sannazaro,  and  Bembo,  as  well  as  by 
a  very  little-known  Italian  sonneteer  Lodovico  Paschale. 


262  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

Desportes,  Diunc,  I.  xxxii.  SPENSER,  Ai/iorcffi,  xv. 

Marc/uuuh,   qui   reclicrches  tout  Ye  tradeful  i/ierc/idfi/s,  that  7i<ith 

le  rivage  more  weary  foil 

Du  froid   septentrion,  et  qui,  sans  Do  seek   most   precious  things  to 

refioser ,  make  your  gain , 

A   cent    mille    dangers   vous    allez  And  both  the  Indies  of  their  trea- 

exposer  sure  spoil,' 

Pottr  un  gain  inceriain,  qui   vos  What  needeth  you  to  seek  so  far  in 

esprits  devore,  vain  ? 

Venez  seulement  voir  la  beaut^  For  lo,  my  love  doth  in  herself 

que  j'adore  contain 

Kt  par  quelle  richesse  elle  a  s^eu  All  this  ivorliPs  riches  that  may  far 

m'attiser :  be  found; 

Et  je   suis   seur  qu'apres  vous  ne  If  sapphires,  lo,  her  eyes  be  sap- 

pourrez  priser  phires  plain  ; 

Le  plus  rare  iresor  dont  VAfrique  If    7-ubies,    lo,    her    lips    be    rubies 

se  dore.  sound  ; 

Voyez   les  filets   d'or  de  ce  chef  If  pearls^    her   teeth    be    pearls, 

biondissant,  both  pure  and  round  ; 

L'eclat  de  ces  rubis,  ce  coral  rougis-  \i  i^ory,  her  forehead  ivory  ween  ; 

sant.  If  gold,  her  locks  are  finest  gold 

Ce  cristal,  cet  ebene,  et  ces  graces  on  ground  ; 

divines,  \i  silver,  her  fair  hands  are  silver 

Cet  argent,  cet yvoire  ;  et  ne  vous  sheen  : 

contentez  But  that  which  fairest  is,  but  few 

Ou'on  ne  vous  montre  encor  mille  behold, 

autres  raretez.  Her    mind    adorned    with    virtues 

Mille  beaux  diamans  et  mille perles  manifold. 

fines. 

Desportes,  Diane,  I.  xliii.  Spenser,  Amoretti,  xxii. 

Solitaire  et  pensif,  dans  un  bois  This    holy  season,  fit  to  fast   and 

ecarte  pr'^)'? 

Bien    loin    du    populaire   et    de   la  Men  to  devotion  ought  to  be  in- 

tourbe  espesse,  clined  : 

Je  veux  hastir  un  temple  ii  ma  fiere  Therefore    I   likewise,  on    so   holy 

dcesse,  day, 

Pour    apprendre    uies   voeux   a    sa  For  my  sweet  saint   some  service 

divinitc.  fit  will  find. 

La,  de  jour  et  de  null,  par  moy  Her  temple  fair  is  built  within  my 

sera  chant^  mind, 

Le  pouvoir  de  ses  yeux,  sa  gloire  et  In  which  her  glorious  image  placed 

sa  hautesse  ;  is, 

Et,rt'c'T'<9/,  son  beau  nomj'invoqueray  On  which  my  thoughts  do  day  afid 

sans  cesse,  night  attend, 

Ouand  je  seray  presse  de  quelque  Like    sacred    priests    that     ne\-er 

adversite.  think  amiss ! 

'  Spenser  probably  also  bore  in  mind  here  Ronsard's  sonnet  {Amours,  I. 
clxxxix) : 

Xy  des  Indois  la  gem  me  use  largesse, 
Ny  tous  les  biens  d'un  rivage  estranger, 
A  leurs  tresors  ne  sgauroient  eschanger 

Le  moindre  honneur  de  sa  double  richesse. 


SPENSER  AND  DESPORTRS  263 

Mon   ceil   sera   la   hiinpe    archiiu  There    I    to    her,   as    th'   author  of 

continiielle,  my  bliss, 

Devant  rii/nii^c  sai/it  d'unc  dame  Will  bid/d  an  altar  to  appease  her 

si  belle  ;  '''^  ! 

Mon    corps    sera    Paufe/,   et    mes  And  on  the  same   ;;//  /learf  ivill 

soupirs  les  voeux.  sacrijice. 

Par  milieetmille  vers y^(7^<^i;/A7v;;'  Burning    in    flames    of    pure    and 

/\>ffiiC,  chaste  desire : 

Puis,    espanchant    mes    pleurs    et  The  which  vouchsafe,  O  goddess, 

coupant  mes  cheveux,  to  accept, 

J'yferay  tous  les  jours  rt'^  WfW  w//r  Amongst  thy  dearest   relics  to  be 

sacrifice.  kept.^ 

Not  merely  is  the  thought  the  same  in  these  two  pairs 
of  efforts,  but  vSpenser  draws  many  of  his  phrases  from  the 
French. 

So  general  was  the  resort  of  Elizabethan  sonneteers  to 
French  verse  that,  in  some  instances,  we  find  two  English 
poets  making  independent  raid  on  the  same  French  sonnet, 
and  producing  two  different  English  versions.  Both  Daniel 
and  vSpenser  worked  about  the  same  time  on  the  eighteenth 
sonnet  in  Desportes'  Amours  (t Hippolyie,  which  begins — 

Pourquoy  si  folement  croyez-vous  a  un  verre, 
Voulant  voir  les  beautez  que  vous  avez  des  cieux  ? 
Mirez-vous  dessus  moy  pour  les  connoistre  mieux, 
Et  voyez  de  quels  traits  vostre  bel  ceil  m'enferre. 

Daniel  rendered  the  passage  thus  {Delia,  xxxii) : 

Why  doth  my  mistress  credit  so  her  glass, 

Gazing  her  beauty,  deigned  her  by  the  skies  ? 

And  doth  not  rather  look  on  him,  alas! 

Whose  state  best  shows  the  force  of  murdering  eyes  ? 

Spenser's  version  is  freer  and  runs  thus  {Amoretti,  xlv)  •  ^     y     / 

Leave,  lady,  in  your  glass  of  crystal  clean,  '^ 

Your  goodly  self  for  evermore  to  view : 
And  in  myself,  my  inward  self,  I  mean, 
Most  lively  like  behold  your  semblance  true. 

^  The  cognate  words  are  italicized  throughout.  Spenser's  opening 
quatrain  (No.  xxii)  suggests  a  reminiscence  of  another  of  Desportes' 
sonnets  in  Diajie  (II,  No.  xlvi),  beginning  'Je  m'estoy  dans  le  temple  un 
dimanche  rendu '.  The  poet  describes  how  he  saw  his  mistress  at  prayer 
in  church  on  Easter  Day.  Spenser,  in  Avioretti  (No.  Ixviii),  also  treats  of 
Easter  Day,  with  an  eye  apparently  both  on  the  sonnet  of  Desportes  and 
on  four  on  the  same  theme  by  Du  Pellay  [Olive,  cviii-cxi). 


264  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

In  their  metrical  scheme  the  Elizabethan  sonneteers  played 
variations  on  their  foreign  models.  They  sought  to  lighten 
their  task  by  relaxing  the  continental  laws  of  rhyme.  Some 
discretion  was  permitted  abroad.  But  a  standard  type  was 
formally  adopted  at  Italian  suggestion  by  the  Pleiade,  and 
departures  from  it  did  not  travel  very  far.  The  fourteen  lines 
of  the  French,  like  the  Italian,  sonnet  were  invariably  distri- 
buted into  two  more  or  less  independent  sections.  An  octave 
formed  of  two  quatrains  was  separated  by  a  marked  pause  from 
a  succeeding  sestet  or  sixain  consisting  of  two  tercets.  The 
quatrains  of  the  octave  usually  followed  the  rhyming  arrange- 
ment of  abba^  abba,  which  were  technically  known  as  '  vers 
embrasses'.  Alternate  or  cross  rhymes  in  the  octave  abab,  abab, 
grew  common  early  in  the  seventeenth  century,  but  were  rare 
at  earlier  dates.  The  sestet  was  less  uniform,  A  new  set  of 
rhyming  syllables  always  found  a  place  in  the  two  tercets  of 
the  sestet.  Usually  the  rhymes  were  three  in  number.  But 
two  were  at  times  found  adequate.  \^'hether  there  were 
three  or  two  rhymes,  several  permutations  were  sanctioned  in 
their  sequence.  A  common  type  of  tercet  in  Pleiade  sonnets 
presented  four  lines  alternately  rhymed  and  a  closing  couplet 
with  a  third  rhyme  cdc,  dee.  Or  there  might  be  six  alter- 
nately rhymed  lines  with  only  two  rhymes  cdc^  dcd.  The 
favourite  pattern  of  Ronsard  and  his  chief  allies  was,  however, 
three  rhymes  thus  arranged,  ccd,  eed.  In  the  majority  of 
French  sonnets  the  octave  and  sestet  were  thus  constructed 
in  combination  on  the  model  abba,  abba,  ccd,  eed. 

The  metrical  systems  which  were  practised  in  Elizabethan 
England  also  fluctuated.  That  which  was  accepted  by  Shake- 
speare and  enjoyed  the  widest  vogue  was  less  intricate  than 
r anything  known  in  France,  and  may  have  been  a  legacy  from 
Surrey's  primitive  experiments.  The  strict  division  into 
octave  and  sestet  was  often  neglected.  In  contemporary 
language  the  fourteen  lines  of  the  Elizabethan  sonnet  were 
distributed  thus  : — '  The  firste  twelve  do  ryme  in  staves  of 
foure  lines  by  crosse  nieetre,  and  the  last  two  ryming  togither 
do  conclude  the  whole.'  ^  In  other  words  the  first  twelve  lines 
^  Gascoigne,  Certayne  Notes  of  Insiructiou,  ed.  Arber,  1868,  p.  39. 


THE  METRE  OF  THE  SONNET  265 

rhymed  altcrnatt-ly  on  six  different  syllables,  ahah^  cdcd^  ^/^ 
and  these  lines  were  followed  by  a  couplet  with  a  seventh 
and  new  rhyme  gg}  A  main  difference  between  the  French 
and  English  normal  types  lay  in  the  increase  in  the  number 
of  rhyming  syllables  from  four  or  five  to  seven.  The  four 
alternate  rhymes  of  the  English  octave  were  not  found  outside 
England.  Hut  the  cross  rhymes  and  the  terminal  couplet  ot 
the  English  sestet,  though  not  encouraged  in  France,  were 
known  there.  One  of  the  most  familiar  of  Ronsard's  sonnets, 
although  its  octave  observes  the  normal  formula  abba  abba^ 
has  a  sestet  fashioned  on  Shakespeare's  in\ariable  pattern 
[QiiLvres^  i,  397) : 

Le  temps  s  en  va,  le  temps  s'en  va,  ma  dame ; 
Las !  le  temps  non,  mais  nous  nous  en-al/<'>';/>r, 
Ft  tost  serons  estendus  sous  la  lame. 
Ft  des  amours  desquelles  nous  par/.c/^.y, 

Quand  serons  morts,  n'en  sera  plus  nowvelle. 

Pour  ce  aimez-moy  cependant  qu'estes  belle. 

With  this  rhyming  scheme  may  well  be  compared  that  of 
the  sestet  of  Shakespeare's  first  sonnet : 

Thou  that  art  now  the  world's  fresh  oxw^ntent 
And  only  herald  to  the  gaudy  s\)}^nig. 
Within  thine  own  bud  buriest  thy  content., 
And,  tender  churl,  mak'st  waste  in  x\\^g?ixding. 
Pity  the  world,  or  else  this  glutton  be, 
To  eat  the  world's  due,  by  the  grave  and  Ihee. 

Other  Elizabethan  sonneteers  kept  closer  than  Shakespeare 
to  the  normal  foreign  lines.  Sir  Philip  Sidney  showed  a 
higher  respect  that  any  of  his  English  contemporaries  for  the 
foreign  canon.  As  a  rule  he  observed  the  orthodox  scheme  of 
the  octave  or  double  quatrain  abba,  abba.  In  the  first  eight 
lines  of  vSidney's  sonnets  only  two  interlaced  rhymes  were  per- 
mitted.    In  the  sestet  he  usually  presents  four  lines  alternately 

^  Surrey  anticipated  the  Shakespearean  arrangement  with  its  six  cross 
rhymes  and  the  terminal  couplets,  and  he  must  be  regarded  as  the 
English  inventor  of  this  system.  Wyatt's  rhyming  scheme,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  usually  loyal  to  the  Italian  vogue  in  the  octave,  abba,  abba, 
though  new  rhymes  occasionally  make  their  appearance  in  the  second 
quatrain  abba,  cddc.  The  sestet  has  invariably  a  terminal  couplet.  But 
in  the  preceding  four  lines  Wyatt  usually  prefers  the  principle  of  '  vers 
embrasses  '  cddc  to  that  of  cross  rhyming. 


266  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

rhymed  and  a  concluding  couplet  {cdc,  dec).  Yet  in  more  than 
twenty  of  his  sonnets  the  sestet  is  faithful  to  Ronsardian  ortho- 
doxy ccd,  eed.  Sidney's  sonneteering  work  is  thus  metrically 
in  closer  harmony  with  continental  prosody  than  that  of  Shake- 
speare or  any  other  Elizabethan.  vSome  of  Sidney's  successors, 
while  adhering  as  a  rule  to  the  loose  English  model,  at  times 
pursued  the  strict  lines  of  foreign  orthodoxy.  Daniel  on  one 
occasion  adopted  so  stern  a  foreign  model  as  this :  abba,  abba, 
cdcdcd,  where  the  rhymes  did  not  exceed  four.  vSpenser  was 
less  adventurous,  but  he  often  subtly  developed  the  foreign 
principle.  While  his  sestets  are  on  the  Shakespearean  pattern, 
the  rhymes  of  the  octave  are  disposed  thus :  abab,  bcbc,  and 
the  first  rhyme  of  the  sestet  repeats  the  last  rhyme  of  the 
octave  cdc.^  dee.  vSpenser  never  exceeds  the  five  rhymes  of 
/       the  foreign  canon. 


XIII 

Shakespeare  and  the  French  Sonnet 

Most  of  the  topics  of  vShakespeare's  sonnets  had  been 
handled  by  the  Pleiade  before  him,  and  though  his  original 
development  of  their  poetic  and  emotional  capacities  is  not  in 
question,  the  parallelisms  between  his  sonnets  and  those  of 
Ronsard's  school  have  a  higher  critical  interest  than  other 
branches  of  such  comparative  study.  In  Shakespeare's  sonnets 
no  instances  of  exact  translation  or  direct  imitation  appear. 
But  thought  and  expression  occasionally  resemble  French 
effort  closely  enough  to  suggest  that  the  processes  ot 
assimilation  wrought  at  times  on  Shakespeare's  triumphant 
achievement  in  much  the  same  way  as  on  the  mass  of  the 
sonneteering  efforts  of  his  day.  Constantly  Shakespeare  seems 
to  develop  with  magnificent  power  and  melody  a  familiar 
theme  of  foreign  suggestion. 

Like  Spenser,  Shakespeare  makes  oft-repeated  play  in  his 


FRENCH  ECHOES  IN  SHAKESPEARE        267 

early  sonnets  with  the  thou^r^ht  which  he  turned  thus  in  his 
earliest  poem  V^einis  and  .  / dojiis  ( 1 3 1  -2) : 

Fair  flowers  that  are  not  gathered  in  their  prime, 
Rot  and  consume  tJicniselves  in  little  time} 

This  is  here  a  plain  reflection  of  the  words  as  well  as  the 
vein  of  Ronsard,  who  never  tires  of  warning  his  mistress — 

Que  vos  beautez,  bien  qu'elles  soient  fleuries, 
En  pen  de  temps  c  her  rant  tontes  /laitries, 
Et,   comme  fleurs,  periront  tout  soudain.- 

When  Shakespeare  reminds  his  lover  (Sonnet  civ.  3-8)  - 

Three  winters  cold 
Have  from  the  forests  shook  three  summers'  pride  .  .  . 
Since  first  I  saw  you  fresh,  which  yet  are  green. 

—  the  words  resemble  those  of  a  minor  sonneteer  of  contem- 
porary France,  Vauquelin  de  la  Fresnaie  : 

La  terre  ia  trois  fois  s'est  desaisie 
De  sa  verdure,  et  ia  de  leurs  vertus 
Se  sont  trois  fois  les  arbres  devetus, 

Depuis  qu'a  toi  s'est  mon  ame  asservie."' 

But  more  important  than  similarity  of  detached  passages 
is  the  broader  adumbrations  in  French  sonnets  of  Shake- 
speare's leading  themes.  The  English  poet's  warning  that 
youthful  beauty  will  utterly  perish  unless  it  propagate  itself, 


1  Spenser  rhymed  on  the  same  words  when  he  treated  the  common 
theme  {Aifio7-etti,  Ixx)  : 

Make  haste,  therefore,  sweet  love,  whilst  it  is  prime; 
For  none  can  call  again  the  passed  time. 

2  Ronsard,  (Euvres,  ed.  Blanchemain,  i.  397  :  '  Cherront'  in  the  second 
line,  for  which  '  seront '  is  often  substituted,  is  the  future  of  'cheoir',  to 
fall,  to  tumble.     '  Dechoir '  is  the  modern  French  form  of  the  verb. 

^  Les  Foresteries  (1869  ed.,  p.  137).  Three  years  is  the  conventional 
period  of  a  sonneteer's  love-suit  both  in  France  and  England.  Cf. 
Desportes  {Cleonice,  Ivii  '  Du  premier  jour  d'Octobre ') : 

Amour,  s'il  t'en  souvient,  c'est  la  iroisieme  anne'e, 
Le  jour  mesme  est  le  point  qu'a  toy  je  fus  souniis. 

So  Ronsard,  Sonnets poin-  Helhie  (No.  .xiv)  :  — 

Trois  ans  sont  ja  passez  que  ton  ceil  me  tient  pres. 


x/ 


268  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

and  his  impassioned  appeals  to  a  hig-hborn  patron  in  the  name 
of  friendship,  strike  a  note  that  is  heard  in  the  inner  circle  of 
the  Pleiade,  Shakespeare's  denunciations  of  a  false  mistress 
of  black   complexion   were,   too,    already   very   familiar   to 

1  French  sonneteers. 

1_  It  is  the  less  known  French  poets  who  approximate  most 
closely  to  vShakespeare's  manner  when  he  dwells  on  the  duty 
of  fair  youth  to  continue  its  succession.  With  great  delicacy 
Amadis  Jamyn,  a  favourite  disciple  of  Ronsard,  presents  his 
argument  of  '  unthrifty  loveliness  ',  and  counsels  his  mistress 
to  transmit  the  light  of  her  beauty  : 

vSi  la  beaute  perist,  ne  I'espargne,  maistresse, 
Tandis  qu'elle  fleurist  en  sa  jeune  vigueur : 
Crois  moi,  je  te  supply,  devant  que  la  vieillesse 
Te  sillonne  le  front,  fais  plaisir  de  ta  fleur. 

On  voit  tomber  un  fruit  quand  il  est  plus  que  meur. 
Ay  ant  en  vain  passe  la  saison  de  jeunesse  : 
La  feuille  tombe  apres,  jaunissant  sa  verdeur, 
Et  I'hiver  sans  cheveux  tous  les  arbres  delaisse. 

Ainsi  ta  grand'  beaute  trop  meure  deviendra. 
La  ride  sur  ta  face  en  sillon  s'etendra, 
Et  soudain  ce  beau  feu  ne  sera  plus  que  cendre. 

N'espargne  done  la  fleur  qui  n'a  que  son  printemps: 
La  donnant  tu  n"y  perds,  mais  tu  jouis  des  ans  : 
C'est  une  autre  lumiere  une  lumiere  prendre.^ 


^  Amadis  Jamyn,  in  Fouqui^re's  Poctes  Franqais  dii  XVT  Sit\ie,  p.  133. 
To  much  the  same  effect  runs  a  sonnet  by  Jean  de  la  Taille : 
Veux-tu  doncques  laisser  en  sa  fleur  la  plus  verte 
Ton  bel  age  flestrir  par  une  nonchallance  ? 
Ne  veux-tu  point  gouster  au  fruict  de  la  Jouvence, 
Qui,  perdue,  jamais  ne  sera  recouverte  ? 
Veux-tu  done  espargner  ce  dont  on  n'a  point  perte 
Ouand  encor  tout  le  monde  en  auroit  jouissance  ? 
Pourquoy  n'acceptes-tu  ceste  tant  bonne  chance, 
Puisque  Toccasion  nous  a  sa  porte  ouverte  ? 
Crois-tu  tousjours  fleurir  en  beaute  desiree  ? 

Ne  crains-tu  point  qu'Amour  avec  deue  vangeance 
Ne  punisse  ta  mine  tS:  ton  orgueil  farouche  ? 
Mais  comme  les  grisons  du  mont  Hyperborce 
Veux-tu  garder  soingneuse  un  thresor  d'exceilence, 
Dont  tu  ne  jouis  point  &  ne  veux  qu'autre  y  touche ! 

CEuvres  de  Jean  de  la    Taille,  ed.   Maulde,    1880,   vol.    iii, 
p.  clxxix. 


'UNTHRIFTY  LOVELINESS'  269 

The  French  Hnes  will  recall  such  verses  as  these  from 
Shakespeare's  sonnets : 

Thou  that  art  now  the  world's  fresh  ornament 
And  only  herald  to  the  (>;audy  spring", 
Within  thine  own  bud  buriest  thy  content 
And,  tender  churl,  niak'st  waste  in  nig-garding. 

i.  9-12. 

Look  in  thy  glass,  and  tell  the  face  thou  viewest 
Now  is  the  time  that  face  should  form  another.  .  .  . 
Hut  if  thou  live,  rememb'r'd  not  to  be, 
Die  single,  and  thine  image  dies  with  thee. 

iii.  1-2,  13-14. 

Unthrifty  loveliness,  why  dost  thou  spend 
Upon  thyself  thy  beauty's  legacy  ?  .  .  . 
Thy  unus'd  beauty  must  be  tonib'd  with  thee, 
Which  used,  lives  the  executor  to  be.^ 

iv.  1-2,  13-14. 

The  ecstatic  praise  of  friendship,  which  fills  so  many  of 
Shakespeare's  sonnets,  only  finds  occasional  and  detached  ex- 
pression in  the  poetry  of  Ronsard  and  his  friends.  Yet  in  one 
series  of  sonnets,  which  a  leader  of  the  Pleiade  addressed  to 
a  noble  patron,  there  is  concentrated  a  depth  of  feeling  which 
anticipates  Shakespeare's  language  of  devotion.  The  poetic 
vivacity  and  emotional  subtlety  of  the  English  poetry  are 
wanting-  to  the  French  verse.  But  little  distinction  can  be 
drawn  between  the  general  sentiment  of  the  French  and 
the  English  poet.  Etienne  Jodelle,  one  of  the  seven  poetic 
stars  of  the  French  Pleiade,  whose  unhappy  career  w^as 
likened  by  Elizabethan  critics  to  that  of  Marlowe,  addressed 
a  sequence  of  eight  sonnets  to  a  noble  patron,  M.  le  Comte  de 
F\auquemberge  et  de  Courtenay.  These  were  first  published 
with  a  long  collection  of  '  amours '  chiefly  in  sonnet  form  in 
1574.    In  the  opening  address  to  the  nobleman  Jodelle  speaks 

^  The  argument  was  common  in  Renaissance  literature  from  the  days 
when  Erasmus  presented  it  in  his  colloquy  Froci  et  Puellae.  Shakespeare's 
modification  of  the  plea  by  making  the  poet  address  it  to  a  patron  instead 
of  to  a  mistress  was  anticipated  by  Sir  Philip  Sidney  in  Mxs  Arcadia 
(bk.  iii)  in  the  address  of  the  dependant  Geron  to  his  master^Prince 
Histor,  and  by  Guarini  in  his  Pastor  Fido  in  the  addresses  of  the  old 
dependant  Linco  to  his  master  the  hero  Silvio. 


^ 


2  70  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

of  his  desolation  in  his  patron's  absence  which  no  crowded 
company  can  alleviate^ 

Quand  seul  sans  toy  je  suis,  car  rien  que  ton  absence 
Ne  me  fait  trouver  seul,  tant  que  quand  je  serois 
Avecq'  tous  les  humains  seul  je  me  jugerois, 

Car  plus  que  tous  humains  m'est  ta  seule  presence.^ 

Yet  when  his  friend  is  absent,  the    French    poet   in  the 
intensity  of  his  soul's  yearning  fancies  him  present — 

Present,  absent,  je  pais  Tame  a  toy  toute  deue.- 

Some  twenty  years  later  Shakespeare  was  writing  to  the 
beloved 'subject  of  his  sonnets— 

Thyself  away  art  present  still  with  me ; 
For  thou  not  farther  than  my  thoughts  can  move. 

xlvii.  lo-i  I. 

Jodelle,  as  he  developes  his  argument,  anticipates  at  almost 
every  turn  the  tenor  of  Shakespeare's  sonnets.  Jodelle's 
patron,  whose  genius  puts  labour  and  art  to  shame,  is  endowed 
by  Nature  with  virtue  and  wealth  and  all  sources  of  happi- 
ness. None  the  less  the  greatest  joy  in  the  Count's  life 
is — the  poet  asserts — the  completeness  of  the  sympathy  be- 
tween the  patron  and  his  poetic  admirer,  which  guarantees 
them  both  immortality.  True  and  perfect  friendship  is  the 
solvent  of  all  human  ills,  and  two  friends  who  are  joined  to- 
gether in  real  bonds  of  friendship  acquire  godlike  attributes, 
after  the  manner  of  the  union  of  Castor  and  Pollux.  The 
poet  hotly  protests  the  eternal  constancy  of  his  affection. 
His  spirit  droops  when  the  noble  lord  leaves  him  to  engage 
in  the  sports  of  hunting  or  shooting,  and  he  then  finds  his 
only  solace  in  writing  sonnets  in  the  truant's  honour  to  while 
away  the  heavy  time.  vShakespeare  in  his  sonnets,  it  will  be 
remembered,  did  no  less — 


^  Jodelle,  CEuvres,  1S70  ed.,  ii,  p.  174. 

"^  Throughout  these  sonnets  Jodelle  addresses  his  lord  in  the  second 
person  singular,  as  Shakespeare  does  in  all  but  thirty-four  of  his  one 
hundred  and  fifty-four  sonnets. 


THE  POET'S  LOVE  OF  HLS  PATRON        271 

Nor  dare  I  chide  the  world-without-end  hour 
Whilst  I,  my  sovereign,  watch  the  clock  for  you, 
Nor  think  the  bitterness  of  absence  sour 
\\'hen  you  have  bid  your  servant  once  adieu. 

Sonnet  Ivii.  5-8. 

O  absence!   what  a  torment  wouldst  thou  prove. 
Were  it  not  thy  sour  leisure  gave  sweet  leave 
To  entertain  the  time  with  thoughts  of  love. 
Which  time  and  thoughts  so  sweetly  doth  deceive, 
And  that  thou  teachest  how  to  make  one  twain, 
By  praising  him  here  who  doth  hence  remain. 

Sonnet  xxxix.  9-14. 

Elsewhere  the  poet  declares  that  he,  a  mere  servant,  has 
passed  into  the  relation  of  a  beloved  and  loving  friend.     The 
master's  high  birth,  high  rank,  great  wealth,  and  intellectual 
endowments,  interpose  no  bar  to  the  force  of  the  friendship. 
The  virtues  of  friendship  and  servitude  rest  alike  on  loving 
obedience.     The  great  friends  of  classical  antiquity,  Py lades  / 
and  Orestes,  Scipio  and  Laelius,  and  the  rest,  lived  with  one  I 
another  on  terms  of  perfect  equality.     The  rigorous  tests  of  \ 
adversity,  which  strengthened  ties  of  friendship  in  the  old  days, 
are  not  needed  to  confirm  the  love  which  binds   to  his  high- 
born lord  the  poet-servant  who  has  become  the  master's  friend.^ 

^  Cf.  Etienne  Jodelle's  Sonnet  iv  to  his  patron  {CEuvres,  ii.  176)  : 
Combien  que  veu  ton  sang,  ton  rang,  ton  abondance, 
Seruiteur  ie  te  sois :   i'ose  prendre  enuers  toy 
Vn  nom  plus  haul,  plus  digne,  &  plus  grand,  puis  qu'a  moy 
Tu  daignes  t'abaissant  en  donner  la  puissance. 
Ie  suis  done  ton  ami,  mais  tel  que  I'excellence 
Du  beau  mot  n'orgueillit  mon  deuoir  ny  ma  foy : 
Car  plus  que  mille  serfs  ie  puis  ce  que  ie  doy 
Payer,  &  croy  qu'amour  doit  toute  obeissance. 
Thesee  «&  Perithoe,  Pylade  &  Oreste, 
Scipion  &  Lelie,  &  si  quelque  autre  reste 
Ues  couples  des  amis  furent,  ce  croy-ie,  esgaux : 
Mais  ralliance  ainsi  d'hommes  pareils  vnie 
Ne  pourroit  rien  gaigner  en  I'espreuue  des  maux 
Sur  mon  amitie  serue  &  seruitude  amie. 
A  literal  translation  in  English  prose  might  run  thus : 

'  However  much  thy  birth,  thy  rank,  thy  wealth  show  me  to  be  servant 
to  thee,  1  dare  to  take  in  relation  to  thee  a  name  loftier,  worthier  and 
greater,  since  thou  deignest  to  humble  thyself  and  give  me  that  power.  I 
am  then  thy  friend,  but  in  such  fashion  that  the  excellence  of  the  beautiful 
word  induces  no  insolent  neglect  of  my  duty  or  my  loyalty,  because  I 


272  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

He  credits  the  patron  in  his  fifth  sonnet  with  every  intellectual 
grace  as  well  as  with  — 

Une  bonte  qui  point  ne  change  ou  s'espouante. 

Jodelle's  words  recall  vShakespeare's  commemoration  of  his 
patron's  '  birth,  or  wealth,  or  wit '  (vSonnet  xxxvii.  5),  as  well 
as  his  '  bounty  '  (Sonnet  liii.  1 1),  and  his  '  abundance  '  (xxxvii. 
1 1).  One  is  reminded,  too,  how  vShakespeare  was  his  patron's 
'  slave ' — 

Being  your  slave,  what  should  I  do  but  tend 
Upon  the  hours  and  times  of  your  desire  ? 

Sonnet  Ivii.  1-2. 

Jodelle's  sentiment  is  again  recalled  in  such  lines  ot 
Shakespeare  as — 

That  god  forbid  that  made  me  first  your  slave, 
I  should  in  thought  control  your  times  of  pleasure. 

Sonnet  Iviii.  1-2. 

Jodelle  wrote  of  his  patron  : 

Et  si  Ion  dit  que  trop  par  ces  vers  je  me  vante, 
C'est  qu'estant  tien  je  veux  ie  vanter  en  mes  heurs.^ 

Similarly  Shakespeare  greeted  his  '  lord  of  love '  with  the 
words — 

'Tis  thee,  myself,— that  for  myself  I  praise. 

Sonnet  Ixii.  13. 

Jodelle  confesses  much  of  Shakespeare's  experience  of 
suffering  and,  like  the  English  sonneteer,  grieves  that  he  was 
the  victim  of  slander.  Although  Shakespeare's  note  of 
yearning  pathos  and  self-torture  is  beyond  Jodelle's  range,-^ 
yet  the  emotional  phase  which  is  revealed  in  these  French 
sonnets  clearly  adumbrated  that  of  Shakespeare's  sonneteering 
triumph. 

better  than  a  thousand  slaves  can  pay  what  I  owe,  and  what  love  owes 
in  my  belief  is  all  obedience.  Theseus  and  Pirithous,  Pylades  and 
Orestes,  Scipio  and  Laelius,  and  whatever  other  pair  of  friends  there  be, 
they  were,  I  am  sure,  on  a  perfect  equality.  But  no  alliance  of  such 
united  men  shows  under  the  trial  of  adversity  superiority  to  my  serf-like 
friendship  and  my  friend-like  servitude.' 

^   CEuvrcs.  ii.  176. 

-  Sonnet  xxxvii  should  be  compared  with  Jodelle's  sonnets  v  and  vi. 


THE  PRAISE  OF  BLACKNESS  273 

Even  closer  resemblances  with  dominant  features  of  the 
French  vogue  appear  in  those  sonnets,  which  Shakespeare 
addressed  to  a  woman.  His  praise  and  dispraise  of  his  '  dark 
lady '  for  her  black  complexion  reflects  a  very  distinctive  French 
note.  Here  is  Amadis  Jamyn  s  sonnet  in  eulogy  of  his  '  dark 
lady ' : 

La  modeste  Venus,  la  honteuse  et  la  sage, 

Estoit  par  les  anciens  toute  peinte  de  noir, 

Et  pour  veuuage,  dueil,  loyaute  faire  voir 

La  tourtre  ^  aussi  fut  faitte  aveq  vn  noir  plumage. 

La  sommeilleuze  nuit  qui  noz  peines  soulage. 

Qui  donne  bon  conseil,  se  fait  noire  aparoir ; 

Les  mysteres  sont  noirs,  profonds  a  conceuoir, 

Noire  est  la  verite  cachee  en  vn  nuage. 

Mille  corps  et  non  corps  dVn  excellent  effet 

Ont  ce  teint,  et  sans  luy  nul  portrait  n'est  bien  fait : 

Chacune  autre  couleur  I'vne  en  I'autre  se  change. 

Luy  seul  est  sans  changer,  signe  de  fermete,  j 

De  regret,  de  sagesse:    aussi  je  I'ay  chante 

Pour  une  qui  sur  toute  en  merite  louange.^ 

To  like  effect  wrote  Shakespeare  : 

Then  will  I  swear  beauty  herself  is  black. 
And  all  they  foul  that  thy  complexion  lack. 

Sonnet  cxxxii.  13-14. 

There  was  earlier  employment  in  Elizabethan  sonnets  of  this 
new  conceit  which  identified  blackness  with  '  beauty's  name  '. 
Sir  Philip  vSidney  in  Sonnet  vii  of  his  Asirophel  and  Stella 
noted  how  the  '  beams  '  of  the  eyes  of  his  mistress  were  '  wrapt 
in  colour  black  '  and  wore  '  this  mourning  weed  ',  so 

That  whereas  black  seems  beauty's  contrary, 
She  even  in  black  doth  make  all  beauties  flow. 

Shakespeare,  too,  had  employed  the  fancy  himself  in  his 
early  comedy,  Love's  Labour's  Lost  {\N.  iii.  247-53),  where 
the  heroine  Rosaline  is  described  as  'black  as  ebony'  with' 
'  brows  decked  in  black  ',  while  her  lover  exclaims  admiringly  : 
'  No  face  is  fair  that  is  not  full  so  black.'  This  judgement 
was  in  full  accord  with  that  of  the  FVench  sonneteer. 

'  i.  e.  tourterelle,  turtle. 

'^  Jamyn,  CEuvres,  i,  p.  129,  No.  xcv. 

LEE  T 


r 


274  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

There  may  be  an  original  touch  in  Shakespeare's  note  of 
regret  that  blackness  should  lose  its  traditional  association  of 
ugliness  : 

In  the  old  age  black  was   not  counted  fair, 
Or,  if  it  were,  it  bore  not  beauty's  name. 

vSonnet  cxxvii.  1-2. 

But  when  Shakespeare  turns  to  denounce  his  '  dark ' 
mistress's  disloyalty,  and  substitutes  for  his  praises  of  his 
mistress's  complexion  vituperative  abuse,  he  plainly  re-echoes 
the  voice  of  the  French  sonneteer.  Jodelle  feigns  remorse  for 
having  lauded  the  black  hair  and  complexion  of  his  mistress : 

Combien  de  fois  mes  vers  ont-ils  dore 
Ces  cheveux  noirs  dignes  d'une  Meduse  ? 
Combien  de  fois  ce  teint  noir  qui  m'amuse 
Ay-je  de  lis  et  roses  colore  ? 

Combien  ce  front  de  rides  laboure 

Ay-je  applani  ?   et  quel  a  fait  ma  Muse 
Ce  gros  sourcil,  ou  folle  elle  s'abuse, 
Ayant  sur  luy  Tare  d' Amour  figure  ? 

Quel  ay-je  fait  son  ceil  se  renfon9ant  ? 
Quel  ay-je  fait  son  grand  nez  rougissant  ? 
Quelle  sa  bouche,  et  ses  noires  dents  quelles  ? 

Quel  ay-je  fait  le  reste  de  ce  corps  ? 
Qui,  me  sentant  endurer  mille  morts, 
Vivoit  heureux  de  mes  peines  mortelles.' 

The  self-reproach,  which  Shakespeare  feels  or  affects,  for 
having  borne  false  witness  to  the  beauties  and  virtues  of  his 
mistress,  is  a  constant  burden  of  the  sonnet  of  the  French 
Renaissance.  Desportes  is  very  prone  to  blame  himself  for 
over-praising  his  love,  and  on  occasion  denounces  her  as  a 
bundle  of  deceptions.  Her  complexion  is  the  fruit  of  a  Spanish 
cosmetic,  and  her  hair  is  false  : 

Ceste  vIve  couleur,  qui  ravit  et  qui  blesse 
Les  esprits  des  amans,  de  la  feinte  abusez, 
Ce  n'est  que  blanc  d'Espagne,  et  ces  cheveux  frisez 
Ne  sont  pas  ses  cheveux :   c'est  une  fausse  tresse.- 

'  Jodelle,  '  Contr'Aniours,'  vii,  in  CEuvres,  ii,  p.  94. 
^  Desportes, '  Di verses  Amours,'  Sonnet  xxix,  in  QLuvres,  ed.  Michiels, 
P-  398. 


THE  VITUPERATIVE  NOTE  275 

Again  Desportes  writes : 

Le  bruit  de  ses  beautez,  volant  par  Tunivers, 
Nest  quun  conte  a  plaisir  (^ue  j"ay  feint  en  mes  vers, 
Pour  voir  si  je  pourroy  bien  chanter  une  fable  ; 

Bref,  je  n'y  reconnois  un  mot  de  verite, 
Sinon  quand  j'ay  parle  de  sa  legerete, 
Car  lors  ce  n  est  plus  conte,  ains  discours  veritable. 

Sonnet  xxxvlii,  ib.  p.  404. 

Shakespeare  echoes  the  note  when  in  vSonnet  clii.  13-14  he 
tells  his  '  dark  lady  ' : 

For  I  have  sworn  thee  fair ;  more  perjur'd  I,,' 
To  swear  against  the  truth  so  foul  a  lie  !      / 

as  well  as  in  Sonnet  cxxxvii,  13-14  : 

In  things  right  true  my  heart  and  eyes  have  err'd,   J 
And  to  this  false  plague  are  they  now  transferr'd.   / 

Nor  is  there  need  to  illustrate  here  the  invective  w^hich 
Shakespeare  and  his  fellows  in  both  plays  and  poems  often 
launched  like  Desportes  against  the  artificial  disguises  of 
ladies'  toilettes.  '  These  bastard  signs  of  fair,'  '  the  living 
brow  '  decorated  with  '  the  golden  tresses  of  the  dead  ',  con- 
stantly moved  Shakespeare's  indignation  (cf.  Sonnet  Ixviii. 
3-7).^      '  The   curld-worne   tresses   of    dead-borrowd   haire ' 

^  Two  other  expressions  of  the  same  category  in  Shakespeare's  vitupe- 
rative sonnets  have  French  parallels.  In  No.  vi  of  his  Contr'Amours 
Jodelle,  after  reproaching  his  '  traitres  vers'  with  having  untruthfully 
described  his  siren  as  a  beauty,  concludes  : 

Ja  si  long  temps  faisant  cV un  Diable  tin  Ange, 
Vous  m'ouvrez  Tceil  en  I'iniuste  louange, 
Et  m'aveuglez  en  I'iniuste  tourment. 
With  this  should  be  compared  Shakespeare's  sonnet  cxliv.  9-10: 
And  whether  that  my  angel  be  turn\l  fiend 
Suspect  I  may,  but  not  directly  tell. 
Again  Desportes  summons  to  repentance  abandoned  women  who  sin  for 
money  : 

Qui  avez  preferee 
A  la  sainte  amitie  la  richesse  doree, 
Le  vice  k  la  vertu,  Tignorance  au  s(javoir, 
Et  I'orde  convoitise  au  fidelle  devoir, 
Et  n'avez  estimee  estre  chose  vilaine — 
Du  revenu  du  lict  accroistre  son  domaine. 
Elegies,  I.  ix,  in  (Eiivres,  ed.  Michiels,  Paris,  1858,  p.  258. 
The  phrase  in  this  context  '  Du  revenu  du  lict '  seems  echoed  in  Daniel's 

T  2 


276  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN   LYRIC 

formed    the    text    ot    many    a    biting    Elizabethan    satire.^ 
Desportes'  words — 

ces  cheveux  frisez 
Ne  sont  pas  ses  cheveux:  c'est  une  fausse  iresse 
—were  almost  as  good  English  as  they  were  good  French. 

More  than  one  view  is  held  as  to  the  precise  significance  of 
Shakespeare's  sonnets.  But  those  who  deem  them  auto- 
biographic confessions  can  hardly  deny  that  Shakespeare  at 
times  took  his  cue  from  contemporary  French  literature. 

XIV 

The  Poetic  Vaunt  of  Immortality 

The  dissemination  through  Elizabethan  verse  of  the  poetic 
vaunt  of  immortality  may  serve  as  a  final  illustration  of  the 
general  influence  which  was  exerted  by  the  Pleiade  on  the  idea 
or  sentiment  of  the  Elizabethan  lyric— both  song  and  sonnet. 
Very  much  of  the  work  of  the  Pleiade  is  infected  by  that  tone 
of  arrogance  which  Ronsard  exemplified  in  his  boast — 

Je  suis,  dis  je,  Ronsard,  et  cela  te  suflace, 
Ce  Ronsard,  que  la  France  honore,  chante  et  prise, 
Des  Muses  le  mignon ;    et  de  qui  les  escrits 
N'ont  crainte  de  se  voir  par  les  ages  surpris. 

1  With  a  superb  confidence  Ronsard  and  his  friends  and 
I  disciples  repeatedly  claimed  immortality  for  their  names,  for 
'    their  poetry,  and  for  all  whom  they  celebrated  in  verse. 

The  pretension  was  a  classical  legacy.     The  veteran  pleas 
j  of  Pindar,  Horace,  and  Ovid  nurtured  the  longing  for  eternal 
/  renown  in  the  hearts  of  the  P'rench  poets.     But  the  Pleiade 
revived  the  classical  aspiration  with  an  assurance  which  ex- 
ceeded  that  of  their  Greek  and  Latin  masters.      Ronsard's 

Complaint  of  Rosamond  {\^<^A^,  755-6,  where  it  is  said  of  vicious  women 
that  they 

In  uncleanness  ever  have  been  fed 
By  the  revenue  of  a  luanion  bed. 
Shakespeare  employs  the  same  expression  when  he  denounced  his  false 
mistress  for  having 

Robb'd  others'  beds'  revenues  of  their  rents. 

(Sonnet  cxlii,  line  8.) 
^  Cf.  Goddard's  Satyricall  Dialogue,  i6i5,sig.  Bb. 


THE  EGOISM  OF  THE  FRENCH  POETS  2-,^ 

spirited  rendering  of  Horace's  familiar  ode  (III.  xxx)  seems  to 
accentuate  the  egoism  of  the  Latin  original : 

Plus  dur  que  fer  j'ay  fini  mon  ouvrage, 

Que  Tan,  dispos  a  demener  les  pas, 

Que  I'eau,  le  vent  ou  le  brulant  orage, 

L'injuriant,  ne  ruVont  point  a  bas. 

Quand  ce  viendra  que  le  dernier  trespas 

M'assoupira  d'un  somme  dur,  a  Iheure 

Sous  le  tombeau  tout  Ronsard  n'ira  pas,  _^^ 

Restant  de  luy  la  part  qui  est  meilleure.  ^ 

Tousjours,  tousjours  sans  que  jamais  je  meure, 
Je  voleray  tout  vif  par  I'univers, 
Eternisant  les  champs  ou  je  demeure, 
De  mes  lauriers  fatalement  couvers, 
Pour  avoir  joint  les  deux  harpeurs  ^  divers 
Au  doux  babil  de  ma  lyre  d'yvoire, 
Que  j'ay  rendus  A^audomois  par  mes  vers. 

Sus  donque.  Muse,  emporte  au  ciel  la  gloire 
Que  jay  gaignee,  annon9ant  la  victoire 
Dont  a  bon  droit  je  me  voy  jouissant, 
Et  de  son  fils  consacre  la  memoire, 
Serrant  son  front  d'un  laurier  verdissant.^ 

In  the  same  vein  Du  Bellay  turned  into  his  own  tongue 
the  famous  vaunt  with  which  Ovid  brings  \sSs>  Metamorphoses 
to  a  close.     Du  Bellay's  version  runs  thus : 

Un  oeuvre  jay  parfait,  que  le  feu  ni  la  foudre, 

Ni  le  fer  ni  le  temps  ne  pourront  mettre  en  poudre. 

Cestuy-la  qui  sera  le  dernier  de  mes  jours 

De  mon  age  incertain  vienne  borner  le  cours 

Quand  bon  luy  semblera;  sans  plus  il  a  puissance 

Dessus  ce  corps  qui  est  mortel  de  sa  naissance. 

Ce  qui  est  meilleur  de  moi  me  portera 

Sur  les  astres  bien  haut,  et  mon  nom  ne  pourra 

Jamais  estre  efface ;  quelque  part  ou  se  nomme 

Le  nom  victorieux  de  I'empire  de  Rome 

Je  seray  leu  du  peuple.     Et  s'il  faut  donner  foy 

Aux  poetes  devins,  qui  predisent  de  soy, 

A  jamais  je  vivray  et  la  durable  gloire       \ 

De  mes  oeuvres  sera  d'eternelle  memoire.''  ; 

1  Pindar  and  Horace. 

2  Ronsard,  '  A  sa  muse,'  Bk.  v,  Ode  xxxii. 
^  Du  Bellay,  CEiivres  Choisies^  ed.  Fouquieres,  pp.  162-3. 


2;8  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

The  French  poets  clothed  their  passionate  desire  for  eternal 
fame  in  a  rich  variety  of  tones,  which  has  no  precise 
parallel  elsewhere.  vSometimes  they  are  calmly  precatory; 
sometimes  they  are  aggressively  or  defiantly  confident;  at 
other  times  their  self-assurance  is  almost  regal  in  its  com- 
plaisance. In  one  very  beautiful  ode  Ronsard  invokes  all  the 
gods  of  Greece  and  Rome,  and  entreats  them  to  help  him  to 
realize  his  immortal  longings.  In  the  last  verse  he  addresses 
himself  to  the  Dryads,  meek  recluses  of  the  forests  : 

Ornez  ce  livre  de  lierre, 
Ou  de  myrte,  et  loin  de  la  terre 
vSil  vous  plaist  enlevez  ma  vois ; 
Et  faites  que  tousjours  ma  lyre 
D'age  en  age  s'entende  bruire 
Du  More  jusques  a  TAnglois.^ 

It  is  no  mere  recognition  by  his  own  people  that  satisfies  the 
French  poet's  aspiration : 

Mon  nom,  des  I'onde  atlantique 
Jusqu'au  dos  du  More  antique, 
Soit  immortel  tesmoigne, 
Et  depuis  I'isle  erratique 
Jusqu'au  Breton  esloigne, 

A  fin  que  mon  labeur  croisse 
Et  sonoreux  apparoisse 
Lyrique  par  dessus  tous, 
Et  que  Thebes  se  cognoisse 
Faite  Fran9oise  par  nous.^ 

Elsewhere  the  master  of  the  Pleiade  (in  a  sonnet)  bids  his 
page  bring  him  a  hundred  leaves  of  paper  on  which  to  write 
words  which  are  to  last  like  diamonds  and  to  be  studied 
deeply  by  all  future  ages. 

Ronsard's  colleagues  betray  no  greater  moderation.  Per- 
haps the  most  buoyant  expression  of  the  valorous  theme  is 
(that  of  Du  Bellay  in  his  lyric  on  the  immortality  of  poets  ('  De 
^rimmortalite  des  Poetes ').  The  animated  melody  of  the 
verse  no  less  than  its  imperial  vanity  renders  the  poem  hard 
to  match,  despite  its  Horatian  affinities  : 

'  Ronsard,  Odes,  IV.  xv,  in  GLtivrcs,  ii,  p.  272. 
^  ibid.,  Odes  Retranchees,  CEuvres,  ii,  pp.  443-4. 


THE  ETERNIZING  FACULTY  OF  VERSE     279 


Arriere  tout  funebre  chant, 

Arriere  tout  marbre  et  peinture, 

Mes  cendres  ne  vont  point  cherchant 

Les  vains  honneurs  de  sepulture, 
Pour  n'estre  errant  cent  ans  a  I'environ 
Des  tristes  bords  de  I'avare  Acheron. 

Mon  nom  du  vil  peuple  incognu 

N'ira  sous  terre  inhonore  ; 

Les  Soeurs  du  mont  deux  fois  cornu 

Mont  de  sepulchre  decore 
Qui  ne  craint  point  les  Aquilons  puissans, 
Ni  le  long  cours  des  siecles  renaissans.^ 

With  these  professions  go  oft-repeated  assurances  to  patrons 
that  the  poet's  praises  can  alone  make  their  reputations 
enduring : 

C'est  un  travail  de  bonheur 

Chanter  les  hommes  louables, 

Et  leur  bastir  un  honneur 

Seul  vainqueur  des  ans  muables. 

Le  marbre  ou  I'airain  vestu 

Dun  labeur  vif  par  I'enclume 

N'animent  tant  la  vertu 

Que  les  Muses  par  la  plume.^ 

In  the  heyday  of  the  Elizabethan  outburst  the  identical  \ 
vaunts  were  naturalized  in  Elizabethan  poetry.  The  proofs/ 
are  overwhelming  that  here,  if  anywhere,  the  Elizabethan 
employed  the  language  of  the  Pleiade.  The  note  was  of 
classical  strain,  but  the  English  writers  echoed  it  in  a 
distinctively  French  key.  Sir  Philip  Sidney  in  his  Apologie 
for  Poetrie  (1595)  wrote  that  it  was  the  common  habit  of 
poets  '  to  tell  you  that  they  will  make  you  immortal  by  their 
verses  '.  '  Men  of  great  calling,'  asserted  Nashe  in  his  Pierce 
Pemiilesse  (1598),  'take  it  of  merit  to  have  their  names 
eternized  by  poets '.  In  the  hands  of  Elizabethan  sonneteers 
the  '  eternizing '  faculty^  of  their  verse  became  a  staple  topic. 
Spenser  wrote  in  his  Anioretti  (1595,  Sonnet  Ixxv) : 

My  verse  your  virtues  rare  shall  eternize. 
And  in  the  heavens  write  your  glorious  name. 


^ 


<U> 


Du  Bellay,  CEitvres  choisies,  ed.  Fouqui^res,  p.  118. 
Ronsard,  Odes  I.  vii,  CEuz'res,  ed.  Blanchemain,  ii,  p.  58. 


-5-^ 


u 


280  FRENCH  INFLUENCE  IN  ELIZABETHAN  LYRIC 

Again,  when  commemorating'  the  death  of  the  Earl  of 
Warwick  in  the  Rtiines  of  Time  (c.  1591),  the  same  poet 
assured  the  Earl's  widowed  countess 

Thy  Lord  shall  never  die  the  whiles  this  verse 
Shall  live,  and  surely  it  shall  live  for  ever ; 
For  ever  it  shall  live,  and  shall  rehearse 
His  worthy  praise,  and  virtues  dying  never. 
Though  death  his  soul  do  from  his  body  sever ; 
And  thou  thyself  herein  shalt  also  live ; 
Such  grace  the  heavens  do  to  my  verses  give. 

Drayton  and  Daniel  developed  the  conceit  with  unblushing 
iteration.  Drayton,  who  spoke  of  his  efforts  as  '  my  im- 
mortal song'  (Idea,  vi.  14)  and  'my  world-out- wearing 
rhymes'  (xliv.  7),  embodied  the  vaunt  in  such  lines  as: 

While  thus  my  pen  strives  to  eternize  thee  (Idea,  xliv.  i). 
Ensuing  ages  yet  my  rhymes  shall  cherish  [td.  xliv.  11). 
My  name  shall  mount  unto  eternity  (/d.  xliv.  14). 
All  that  I  seek  is  to  eternize  thee  (z'^.'xlvii.  14J. 

Daniel  was  no  less  explicit : 

This  [sc.  verse]  may  remain  thy  lasting  monument  {Delia ^ 

xxxvii.  9}. 
Thou  mayst  in  after  ages  live  esteemed, 
Unburied  in  these  lines  {ib.  xxxix.  9-10). 
These  \sc.  my  verses]  are  the  arks,  the  trophies  I  erect 
That  fortify  thy  name  against  old  age  ; 
And  these  \_sc.  verses]  thy  sacred  virtues  must  protect 
Against  the  dark  and  time's  consuming  rage  (?<^.  1.  9-12). 

Shakespeare,  in  his  references  to  his  '  eternal  lines  '  (xviii.  12) 
and  in  the  assurances  that  he  gives  the  subject  of  his  addresses 
that  the  sonnets  are  the  young  man's  '  monument '  (Ixxxi.  9, 
cvii.  13),  boldly  accommodated  himself  to  the  French  canon  of 
taste.  Characteristically  he  more  than  once  invested  the  topic 
with  a  splendour  that  was  not  approached  by  any  other  poet 
(Iv.  1-2): 

Not  marble,  nor  the  gilded  monuments 

Of  princes,  shall  outlive  this  powerful  rhyme. 


I 


SHAKESPEARE'S  'ETERNAL  LINES'         281 

Elsewhere  Shakespeare  more  conventionally  foretells  that 
his  friend  amid  the  oblivion  of  the  day  of  doom 

shall  in  these  black  lines  be  seen, 
And  they  shall  live,  and  he  in  them  still  green.^ 

Your  monument  shall  be  my  gentle  verse, 
Which  eyes  not  yet  created  shall  o'er-read  .  .  . 
You  still  shall  live,—  such  virtue  hath  my  pen.'-^ 

Here  we  have  Ronsard  very  slenderly  qualified  : 

Donne  moy  I'encre  et  le  papier  aussi, 
En  cent  papiers  tesmoins  de  mon  souci 
Je  veux  tracer  la  peine  que  j'endure : 
En  cent  papiers  plus  durs  que  diamant,    \ 
A  fin  qu'un  jour  nostre  race  future 
Juge  du  mal  que  je  souffre  en  aimant.^ 

Vous  vivrez  et  croistrez  comme  Laure  en  grandeur 
Au  moins  tant  que  vivront  les  plumes  et  le  livre."* 

Ronsard  and  his  friends  never  tired  of  the  text  that  their 
pens,  their  papers,  and  their  tablets  were  the  base  implements 
of  a  poetic  spirit  which  through  such  poor  agencies  was 
winging  its  way  to  eternity.  The  lyric  expression  of  this 
boast  in  Elizabethan  England  was  the  most  persistent  of  all 
the  clear  echoes  of  the  Pleiade's  phrase  and  aspiration.  y 

^  Shakespeare,  Sonnet  Ixiii.  13-14. 

2  ibid.  Ixxxi.  9-10,  13. 

'  Ronsard,  Amours,  I.  cxciii  {(Euvres,  I.  109). 

*  ibid.,  Sonnets  pour  Ht'lene,  II.  ii. 


BOOK    V 
THE   MESSAGE   OF  THE   HUGUENOTS 


I 

Characteristics  of  the  Huguenot  Movement 

French  Humanism   in  its  early  days  set  out  in  quest  of 
a   mildly    rationalized    theolog-y.      It    approved    of  biblical 
study ;    efforts  to  strip  the  Church  worship  of  what  looked" 
like  superstitious   ceremonies  were  encouraged ;    there  was 
hope  of  diminishing  ecclesiastical  interference  in  the  affairs 
of  the  laity.     But  those  who  directed  the  main  movements  of 
the  French  humanist  army  left  Christian  dogma  much  as  they 
found  it.     Liberty  of  belief  or  of  unbelief  satisfied  the  intellec- 
tual ambitions  of  the  centre  of  the  humanist  forces.     A  left 
wing,  however,  discerned  elemental  defects  in  the  Roman  theory 
of  religion.     Under  the  leadership  of  Calvin  a  new  theological' 
and  ethical  creed  was  evolved,  and  open  war  was  declared  oA 
the  established  Catholic  codes.     The  Calvinist  organization  J 
though  it  ver>'  slowly  lost  its  humanist  tinge,  travelled  far  fromj 
the  humanist  ideals.     Expelled  from  France  by  the  govern-! 
ing  power,  the  Calvinist  theocracy  exercised  from  Geneva  a  | 
spiritual  tyranny  far  more  rigorous  than  anything  it  displaced./ 
In  set  terms  it  ultimately  pronounced  liberty  of  conscience 
a  diabolical  dogma,  and  purely  aesthetic   or  intellectual  en- 
deavour   ungodly    impropriety.      Calvinist  literature  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  whether  it  were  produced  in    France    or 
Switzerland,  helped  to  endow  Uterary  prose  with  logical  pre-i 
cision  ;  but  the  doctrine  checked  among  the  faithful  imaginative 
activity  or  originality  ;  poetry  was  banished  to  the  outer  court^ 
of  the  temple,  and  only  there  admitted,  if  heavily  laden  withl 
piety. 

In  France  the  humanist  enthusiasm  was  too  strong  to  com- 
mend Calvinism  to  the  bulk  of  those  who  cherished  early  hopes 
of  religious  reform.  Most  of  the  humanist  reformers  resented 
Calvin's  drastic  revolution  and  his  antagonism  to  secular  culture. 
Dread  of  the  chilling  atmosphere  of  Calvin's  demesne  tended 


286       THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 


^ 


to  draw  moderate  men  of  literary  feeling  back  to  the  more 
genial  air  of  the  old  Catholic  fold.  Under  Calvinist  pressure, 
humanism  in  its  main  line  of  development  more  or  less  per- 
functorily reconciled  itself  with  Catholicism.  Profane  French 
Ifterature  of  the  lighter  kind  in  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth 
I  century  was  chiefly  the  work  of  professedly  Catholic  and  anti- 
t^Calvinist  pens.  The  greatest  writers  in  sixteenth-century  prose 
and  poetry— men  like  Rabelais,  Montaigne,  and  Amyot  among 
prose  writers,  or  like  Ronsard,  Du  Bellay,  and  Desportes  among 
poets — were  in  name  loyal  Catholics,  and  in  act  and  deed  foes 
of  Calvinist  theory  and  practice. 

Yet  at  the  side  of  the  poetic  Pleiade  and  of  the  great 
Catholic  artists  in  prose,  there  flourished  within  France  a 
notable  band  of  humanists  who,  calling  themselves  Huguenots, 
remained  faithful  to  the  early  hopes  of  religious  reform,  but  did 
not  abandon  liberal  culture  while  they  accepted  Calvinist  teach- 
ing. Some  French  poets,  some  dramatists,  some  writers  of 
eloquent  prose  succeeded  in  reconciling  a  substantial  measure 
of  Calvinist  belief  with  aesthetic  and  intellectual  aspirations. 
Their  allegiance  was  divided  between  the  Hebrew  scriptures 
and  the  profane  classics,  and  drawing  mental  and  spiritual 
sustenance  from  both,  they  won  distinction  in  many  intellectual 
fields.  Among  these  enlightened  Protestants  were  the  poets 
Du  Bartas  and  Aubigne,  the  scholars  Etienne  and  Scaliger, 
the  dramatists  Grevin  and  Montchretien,  and  the  philosopher 
Ramus.  Huguenot  soldiers  and  statesmen,  under  the  leader- 
ship of  Gaspard  de  Coligny  and  Henry  of  Navarre,  cultivated 
literary  enthusiasms,  which  did  the  spirit  of  the  Renaissance 
no  discredit ;  they  acknowledged  discipleship  to  Plutarch  and 
Seneca,  as  well  as  to  Homer  and  Vergil,  the  Hebrew  prophets 
and  Christ's  Apostles.  From  this  broad-minded  Huguenot 
school  there  issued  influences  which  powerfully  helped  to 
mould  the  course  of  English  thought  and  culture. 

The  Huguenot  movement  at  its  maturity  played  many 
unexpected  and  hardly  consistent  parts  in  the  history  of 
France.  Its  spirit  took  the  Protean  shapes  which  were  bred 
of  the  mingling,  on  a  generous  scale,  of  Hebraic  and  classical,  of 
sacred  and  profane  conceptions  of  human  life  and  endeavour. 


HUGURNOT  ASPIRATIONS  287 

The  movement  boasted  at  once  of  relig-ious,  intellectual, 
political,  military,  philosophic,  and  poetic  achievement. 
Althoug-h  the  org-anization  of  Church  consistories  and 
synods,  and  the  new  theology  of  election  and  predestination 
exhausted  the  interests  of  the  orthodox  Calvinist,  yet  the 
Huguenot  of  the  broad  school  watched  with  keen  attention 
secular  developments  of  philosophy  and  learning.  He  loved 
to  debate  first  principles  of  logic  and  ethics ;  he  was  fascinated 
by  the  study  of  law  and  history  ;  he  cherished  conceptions  of 
political  regeneration  ;  he  advocated  with  an  emphasis  which 
none  had  anticipated  the  rights  of  the  people  to  control 
government ;  he  pleaded  for  the  sanctity  of  liberty  in  matters 
of  conscience,  and  for  the  virtue  of  toleration.  While  the 
Huguenot  of  every  type  was  in  theory  a  votary  of  peace,  he 
always  cherished  a  firm  faith  in  war  as  the  last  resort  of  those 
who  suffered  for  conscience'  sake,  and  the  more  enlightened 
section  of  the  fraternity  was  prepared  to  fight  for  principles  of 
philosophy  and  politics  as  well  as  of  religion. 

The  ripened  creed  of  Huguenot  France  was  thus  composed 
of  simples  culled  as  liberally  from  philosophy,  literature,  and 
political  theory  as  from  theology.  Its  piety  was  deep  and 
lasting.  The  literary  and  philosophic  activity  of  the  move- 
ment rarely  cooled  its  religious  ardour.  Love  of  poetry  or 
art,  enthusiasm  for  liberty  of  conscience,  failed  to  breed 
in  the  Huguenot  fold  religious  indifferentism.  Literature  and 
philosophy  from  Huguenot  pens  accepted,  without  demur,  the 
main  tenets  of  the  faith.  The  stress  of  political  or  military 
conflict  exposed  Huguenot  convictions  to  greater  dangers.  At 
the  Huguenot  head -quarters  political  exigencies  often  menaced 
principle,  and  there  were  among  the  practical  strategists  of 
the  party  backsliders  who  finally  sacrificed  their  creed  to 
political  ambition. 

The  Huguenot  movement,  when  it  is  viewed  in  its  full  scope,  I 
is  consequently  seen  to  split  as  it  grew  into  three  main  divi- 
sions. Something  of  a  centrifugal  tendency  was  inevitable  in 
a  busy  school  of  thought  and  activity,  which  drew  much  of 
its  first  strength  from  a  predilection  for  dissent  and  contro- 
versy.    On  the  left  flank  lay  the  zealots  for  Calvin's  spirituaj/ 


288       THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

bondage,  whose  literary  labour  was  confined  to  dogmatic 
themes.  In  the  centre  stood  the  enlightened  champions  of 
liberty  of  conscience,  who  contrived  to  harmonize  love  of  their 
creed  and  courage  on  the  battle-field  with  wide  literary  sym- 
pathy and  philosophic  originality.  On  the  right  flank  there 
gathered  a  company  of  ambitious  advocates  of  political  ascen- 
dancy, who  were  prepared  to  go  further  than  the  centre  in 
the  name  of  expediency,  and  at  times  succumbed  to  the 
temptation  of  purchasing  peace  or  profit  by  surrender  of  the 
spiritual  citadel.  In  the  moderate  centre  are  to  be  found 
the  great  Huguenot  authors,  and  their  attractiveness  resides 
as  much  in  their  fine  traits  of  character  and  temperament  as 
in  their  written  word.  The  twofold  devotion  to  the  Bible 
and  the  classics  seemed  to  generate  in  this  middle  party  a 
noble  type  of  integrity  which  was  incapable  of  corruption, 
and  while  it  was  prepared  to  sacrifice  non-essentials  in  the 
cause  of  toleration  and  liberty  was  stedfast  in  all  else.  Nor 
did  this  idiosyncrasy  of  the  golden  mean  fail  in  a  whole- 
hearted worship  of  the  Muses. 

II 

The  Civil  Wars  in  France 

Civil  war  was  the  most  conspicuous  and  engrossing  of  the 
practical  issues  of  the  Huguenot  movement.  Some  study  of  the 
politico-military  annals  of  the  French  civil  wars  is  needed  to 
an  appreciation  of  the  influence  of  the  movement  abroad  as 
well  as  at  home.  It  is  not  only  the  literary  and  philosophic 
achievement  of  France  that  riveted  the  attention  of  England, 
when  Elizabethan  poetry  and  drama  were  coming  of  age  at 
the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century.  There  were  in  less  ethereal 
spheres  of  activity  events  which  stirred  powerful  emotion 
through  two  generations.  Elizabethan  Englishmen  of  all 
ranks  and  capacity  were  deeply  moved  by  the  religious  and 
political  conflicts  which  for  nearly  fifty  years  kept  France  in 
turmoil.  While  Ronsard  and  his  friends  were  busily  effecting 
their  reformation  of  French  poetry,  France  was  in  the  early 
throes  of  that  intestine  strife  which  continued  intermittently 
for  great  part  of  a  century,  though    it   only   blazed   in    full 


THE  COUNSEL  OF  COERCION  289 

ferocity  at  intervals,  and  was  punctuated  by  prolonged  truces. 
The  warfare  was  pursued  in  its  most  brutal  rigour  while  the 
Elizabethan  poets  were  in  early  manhood.  Pitched  battles 
and  sieges  formed  only  one  feature  of  the  furious  struggle. 
When  the  armies  returned  to  their  tents  there  were  alarums 
and  excursions  in  the  shape  of  massacres  or  assassinations 
which  caused  in  England  hardly  less  horror  than  in  France 
herself  The  domestic  dissensions  of  our  neighbours  found 
expression  in  deeds  of  violence,  so  cruel  and  startling  as  to 
shake  the  nerve  of  Europe. 

Owing  to  the  volatility  of  the  national  genius,  the  politico- 
military  convulsions  of  France  affected  the  tone  of  general 
literature  less  powerfully  than  might  have  been  anticipated. 
The  main  lyric  stream  of  poetic  energy  was  rarely  ruffled  by 
the  ferment.  A  man  of  Montaigne's  literary  genius  could 
survey  the  scene  of  tumult  without  prejudice  to  his  philosophic 
temper  of  detachment.  French  thought  calmly  evolved  much 
political  theory  which  bore  no  obvious  trace  of  the  storms  of 
violence.  Yet  the  civil  warfare  was  bound  on  occasion  to  dis- 
turb the  current  of  literary  effort.  Political  and  religious 
argument  was  often  charged  with  revolutionary  passion  and  a 
new  strength  of  invective.  Huguenot  poetry,  too,  caught  at 
times  the  menacing  tone  of  Hebraic  prophecy  and  roared  im- 
precations on  the  heads  of  the  Catholic  foe.  Satire  in  verse 
was  driven  by  political  and  ecclesiastical  rancour  to  scurrilous 
excesses.  The  atmosphere  of  literature  could  not  always 
escape  the  vibrations  of  the  world  outside. 

The  questions  at  issue  between  Protestant  and  Catholic 
were  submitted  comparatively  early  to  the  arbitrament  of 
force.  If  the  ruling  powders  of  France  allowed  in  the 
dawn  of  the  Renaissance  freedom  of  religious  thought,  they 
only  countenanced  criticism  which  touched  more  or  less 
academic  theories  of  theology.  As  soon  as  Protestant 
disaffection  questioned  ecclesiastical  practice  and  polity,  the 
active  leaders  of  the  Church  replied  to  the  challenge  in 
terms  of  persecution  or  decrees  of  exile.  The  secular  govern- 
ment quickly  accepted  the  sacerdotal  counsel  of  coercion  ; 
Protestant  resistance  proved  stubborn  ;  the  result  was  frank 


290        THE  MF.SSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

rebellion,  political  as  well  as  religious.  The  ground  of 
quarrel  often  tended  to  shift  from  a  difference  between 
Romanism  and  Calvinism  to  one  between  unlimited^SLOnarchy 
inclining  to  absolutism  and  constitutional  monarchy  inclining 
to  Republicanism.  But  the  controversy,  whatever  its  imme- 
diate colour,  was  waged  with  assured  reliance  on  the  persua- 
sive power  of  sword  and  cannon. 

('  The  persecution  of  French  Protestants  as  heretics  began  in 
1535.  A  year  before  a  fanatical  body  of  Reformers  had 
.  challenged  the  indulgence  of  the  State  by  placarding  Paris 
with  a  broadside  abusijig^hc  Mass  and  its  celebrants.  Paris 
and  the  chief  cities  of  central  France  soon  witnessed  many 
Huguenot  martyrdoms.  Seeking  encouragement  in  such 
French  poetry  as  was  available,  the  martyrs  went  to  the  stake 
chanting  Marot's  tuneful  version  of  the  Psalms.  The__Psalms 
were  thenceforth  the  battle-songs  of  the  Huguenots.  The 
persecution  was  pursued  until  1560.  Then  the  stalwart  Pro- 
testants were  strong  enough  to  organize  military  resistance. 

The  strength  of  the  Huguenots  first  lay  in  the  small-Gities 
among  the  small  tradesmen  and  artisans  of  the  lower  middle 
v^-.        '  classes,  who  had  at  the  bidding  of  Calvin  formed  themselves  into 
'      ,    M      congregations,  consistories,  and  synods.     Towns  like   Caen, 
6^  y^  Meaux,   Poictiers,  and  the  prosperous  port  of  La  Rochelle 

\^^  eagerly  accepted  the  new  faith  at  the  outset.     But  the  infec- 

tion steadily  spread  in  many  districts  of  France  from  the 
lower  to  the  upper  ranks  of  society.  The  south-west,, reaching 
from  the  river  Loire  to  the  Pyrenees,  soon  became  the  most 
compact  of  Huguenot  strongholds,  and  there  the  rich  bour- 
geoisie grew  more  ardent  in  the  cause  than  the  poor.  In 
Normandy,  in  Dauphine,  in  Lower  Languedoc,  and  in  many 
scattered  districts  of  Anjou,  Maine,  Champagne,  and  Bur- 
gundy Protestantism  spread  evenly  through  every  class.  In 
Brittany  the  nobility  alone  encouraged  religious  reform,  which 
the  people  at  large  stoutly  opposed.  The  city  of  Meaux,  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Paris,  where  the  flag  had  been  raised  in 
early  days,  was  always  faithful  to  the  cause  through  all  ranks. 
Paris  had  a  resolute  but  comparatively  small  Huguenot  con- 
vtingent.     With  such  notable  exceptions,  the  centre  and  north- 


MICHEL  DE  L'H6pITAL  291 

east  of  France,  which  were  more  densely  populated  than  the/ 
rest  of  the  country,  showed  only  sparse  signs  of  wavering  inj 
devotion  to  the  old  religion. 

The    Huguenot  cause  attracted  men  who  loved  fighting 
and   adventure.     It  was  reckoned   that,  out   of  every   three 
members  of  the  lower  nobility  who  were  capable  of  bearing 
arms,  one  was  pledged  to  the  new  religion  and  served  as  an  1 
officer    in    the   Huguenot  armies.     The   rank   and   fde    werej 
recruited  from  the  trading  and  artisan  classes,  who  cherished 
a    spirtual   earnestness   which    it   was    difficult  to    daunt    on 
the  field  of  battle.      Huguenot  officers   and  private    soldiers  1 
reached  a  total  exceeding  100,000.     The    Catholics  claimed 
a   force    ten   times   as   large.      But   superiority  of  zeal  and/ 
generalship  on  the  part  of  the  Huguenots  proved  an  effective) 
compensation  for  inferiority  of  numbers. 

When  war  grew  imminent.  Huguenot  aspirations  for  political 
liberty  and  freedom  of  conscience  won  powerful  adherents 
within  the  kings  council,  and  schemes  of  toleration  which 
were  promulgated  in  the  king's  name,  postponed  for  a  season 
the  outbreak  of  hostilities.  There  seemed  a  likelihood  that 
the  destinies  of  France  would  be  guided  by  statesmanship, 
which  had  caught  something  of  the  magnanimity  that 
gave  the  Huguenot  centre  its  best  title  to  respect.  Hopes 
of  conciliation  on  lines  of  comprehension  conquered  the  mind 
and  heart  of  an  adviser  of  the  crown.  Although  his  efforts 
at  an  accommodation  failed,  they  drew  tributes  of  admiration 
from  Englishmen  no  less  than  from  enlightened  Frenchmen. 
In  1560  Michel  de  THopital  became  chancellor  of  France.  He' 
was  no  avowed  Huguenot ;  he  seems  to  have  attended  mass ; 
but  his  wife  and  children  accepted  the  proscribed  creed,  he 
acknowledged  the  reasonableness  of  the  Huguenot  plea,  and 
Protestants  often  reckoned  him  one  of  themselves.  He  stood, 
indeed  outside  the  range  of  religious  or  political  party, 
and  his  religion  was  of  that  indefinable  quality  which  is 
proverbially  allotted  to  the  faith  of  all  sensible  men.  His 
philosophic  calm  and  humane  temper  gave  him  his  fame. 
It  was  said  that  his  countenance  resembled  that  of  Aristotle 
on  Greek  medals,  and    his   tone   of  mind  that  of  Cato  the 

U  2 


\ 


292        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

Censor.  A  skilful  orator  and  a  fine  scholar,  he  enjoyed  the 
affectionate  regard  of  all  men  of  culture.  L'Hopital  was  a 
writer  of  admirable  Latin  verse,  and  Ronsard  greeted  him 

as — 

Ce  divin  THospital 

En  moeurs  et  en  s^avoir,  qui  si  doctement  touche 

La  lyre  et  qui  le  miel  fait  couler  de  sa  bouche. 

To  him  Ronsard  dedicated  the  greatest  and  the  longest  of 
his  Pindaric  odes.  There  the  poet  describes  how  the  chan- 
cellor's virtues  and  accompHshments  have  fitted  France  for  the 
Muses'  lasting  home.  But  it  is  his  moral  excellence  which, 
in  the  opinion  of  the  poet,  chiefly  glorifies  his  country  : 

Mais  veritable  il  me  plaist 

De  chanter  bien  haut,  qu'il  est 

L'ornement  de  nostre  France, 

Et  qu'en  fidele  equite, 

En  justice  et  verite, 

Les  vieux  siecles  il  devance.^ 

L'Hopital  figures  in  an  even  more  heroic  light  in  Brantome's 
gallery  where  he  is  likened  to  Sir  Thomas  .More,  chancellor 
of  England,  despite  the  obvious  discrepancy  between  their 
religious  sympathies. 

At  the  turning-point  in  his  country's  fortunes,  L'Hopital's 
magnanimity  seemed  well  fitted  to  mediate  between  the  rival 
hosts  into  which  his  fellow  countrymen  were  divided.  Tran- 
quilly and  sanguinely  he  set  forth  to  heal  dissensions.  '  Patience, 
patience,  tout  ira  bien,'  were  words  often  on  his  lips,  but  his 
eloquent  appeal  for  mutual  tolerance  succeeded  only  in  delay- 
ing the  final  breach.     When  he  saw  how  his  manful  strivings 

1  Ronsard,  Odes,  Bk.  I,  Ode  x    (CEicvres,   ed.  Blanchemain,   ii.  95). 
Some  of  Ronsard's  friends  were  irritated  by  L'Hopital's  exemplary  fair- 
ness of  mind  and  his  obvious  sympathy  with  the  Huguenots.     Jodelle  in 
r3.  bitter  satire  denounced  in  a  very  characteristic  vein  of  controversy  the 
j  ambiguities  of  his  opinions  : 

V-  Sa  vertu  est  d'estre  un  Prothee, 

Sa  neutralitc  d'estre  Athee, 
Sa  paix  deux  lignes  maintenir  : 
Changer  les  loix,  c'est  sa  pratique, 
Sa  court  les  pedants  soustenir, 
Et  son  s^avoir  d'estre  heretique. 

{CEuvres,  ed.  Marty-Laveaux,  Paris,  1870,  ii.  349.) 


THE  FIRST  CIVIL  WAR  293 

lor  peace  were  of  no  avail  against  the  dominant  forces 
of  big-otry  and  unreason,  he  with  cahn  dignity  resigned  the 
seals  of  office.  In  words  that  have  become  classic,  he 
declared  that  he  had  followed  the  '  great  royal  road '  which 
turns  neither  to  the  right  hand  nor  the  left,  and  had  given 
himself  to  no  faction.  Amid  all  the  evils  of  the  time  the  up- 
right statesman  preserved,  in  the  contemporary  phraseology, 
'the  lilies  of  France  in  his  heart,'  but  the  crushing  blow 
which  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew's  Day  soon  dealt  to 
his  last  hopes  of  pacification  cost  him  his  life  (March  13,  1573). 
Of  the  impression  which  such  a  type  of  culture  and  integrity 
left  on  the  Elizabethan  mind,  noble  testimony  is  borne  by  Sir 
Philip  Sidney,  the  knightly  champion  of  the  Huguenot  cause 
in  England.  In  his  Apology  for  Poetry  Sidney  numbers 
L'Hopital  among  statesmen  to  whom  the  cause  of  sweet  poesy 
was  dear,  and  who  made  it  prevail.  Sidney  credits  the  French 
chancellor  with  a  '  more  accomplished  judgement  more  firmly 
builded  upon  virtue,  than  had  yet  come  to  birth  '} 

It  was  the  noble  family  of  the  Guises,  who  controlled  the 
most  bigoted  wing  of  absolutist  Catholicism.  Their  astuteness 
was  mainly  responsible  for  the  impotency  of  L'Hopital's  great 
endeavour.  The  Guises  gained  control  of  the  action  of  the 
queen-mother,  Catherine  de'  Medici,  who  as  regent  for  her 
young  son  Charles  IX  dominated  affairs  of  state.  Their 
influl^Tce  made  a  stern  and  unflinching  policy  of  repression 
finally  to  prevail.  The  hope  of  compromise  or  conciliation 
was  extinguished  by  the  flame  of  brutal  fanaticism,  which 
the  Guises  fanned.  The  Huguenots  eagerly  accepted  the 
challenge,  and  in  1562  there  was  fought  at  Dreux,  on  the 
borders  of  Normandy,  the  first  pitched  battle  between  French 
Catholics  and  Huguenots.  Elizabethan  England  sent  men, 
money,  and  guns  to  the  aid  of  her  French  co-religionists. 
Although   Huguenots  cherished   misgivings  of  foreign  inter- 

1  Sidney's  Apology,  ed.  Shuckburgh,  p.  48.     Sidney  is  here  inquiring 
into  the  causes  of  the  low  repute  of  poetry  in  PIngland,  and  attributes  the 
foreign  superiority  to  the  practice  habitual  to  men  in  high  position  abroad       ^f 
not  only  of  befriending  poets,  but  also  of  writing  poetry  for  themselves. 
Among  such  foreign  champions  of  the  poetic  art  he  reckons  '  before  all,  ' 
that  Hospitall  of  Fraunce. ' 


294        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

ference  in  the  field  and  showed  some  suspicion  of  their 
English  allies,  the  fortunes  of  the  war  were  scanned  almost 
as  anxiously  in  England  as  in  France.  There  was  no  lack  of 
sensation.  The  assassination  by  a  Huguenot  of  the  head  of 
the  Guise  family,  F'rancis,  the  second  duke,  while  the  Catholics 
were  besieging  Orleans,  gave  a  foretaste  of  the  weapon  which 
was  to  be  freely  used  in  future  frays  (Feb.  i8,  1563).  A  hollow 
peace  between  the  combatants  then  gave  them  a  brief  breath- 
ing space.  But  campaign  was  to  follow  campaign  in  quick 
succession. 

In  1567  there  broke  out  the  second  war,  during  which 
the  great  battle  of  St.  Denis  was  fought  under  the  walls  of 
Paris.  In  these  early  encounters  the  Catholics  were  victorious, 
but  the  undismayed  Huguenots  sanguinely  began  a  third  war 
in  1569  and  lost  no  ground  during  its  progress.  At  the 
well-contested  fight  of  Jarnac  in  the  western  province  of 
Saintonge,  the  Huguenot  general,  the  Prince  of  Conde,  Henry 
of  Navarre's  uncle,  was  captured  and  shot.  The  supreme 
I  command  devolved  on  an  officer  of  even  larger  skill  and 
;  experience,  and  one  whose  character  was  as  lofty, — Gaspard 
de  Coligny.  Coligny's  first  batde  of  Moncontour  failed  to 
retrieve  the  neighbouring  disaster  of  Jarnac.  But  there  fol- 
lowed in  1570  a  third  peace— that  of  St.  Germain — which 
offered  the  Huguenots  comparatively  easy  terms  and  greatly 
stimulated  their  hope  of  ultimate  success. 

It  was  in  1572,  two  years  after  the  conclusion  of  the  third 
war  and  the  third  peace,  that  Queen  Catherine  and  the  Guises, 
despairing  of  other  means  of  crushing  their  enemies,  planned 
and  executed  the  ghastly  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew's  Day. 
Thirty  thousand  Huguenots  in  Paris  and  the  provinces  were 
put  to  the  sword,  and  the  victims  included  Coligny,  the  noble- 
hearted  commander  of  the  Huguenot  forces,  and  Ramus,  the 
intellectual  chieftain  of  the  movement.  The  barbarity  out- 
raged English  feeling  beyond  all  precedent.  Loud  and 
deep  were  the  English  curses  of  French  Catholic  cruelty. 
The  fevered  wrath  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  subjects  was 
echoed  on  the  Elizabethan  stage,  and  Marlowe's  lurid 
pageant   of  tragedy,  which  was   entitled   The  Massacre  of 


THE  DYNASTIC  DISPUTE  295 

Paris,  was  one  of  many  testimonies  to  the  unquenchable  I 
anger  of  Shakespeare's  generation  against  the  St.  Bartholo-  / 
mew  assassins  of  1572. 

The  murderous  manoeuvre  failed  in  attaining  the  object 
of  its  perpetrators.  Surviving  Protestants  flew  to  arms 
with  renewed  spirit,  and  for  the  eight  following  years  France 
had  little  respite  from  the  wearing  strife.  At  the  outset  of 
this  period  the  Huguenot  strongholds  of  La  Rochelle  and 
Sancerre  were  subjected  to  the  tortures  of  desperate  sieges. 
The  chance  of  any  early  abatement  of  the  vindictive  stress 
seemed  small.  None  the  less  a  sense  of  impatience  with 
extremists  on  both  sides  was  steadily  developing  among  the 
calmer  sections  of  the  people.  Though  compromise  proved  / 
as  yet  impracticable  the  wish  for  it  was  growing  articulate. 

It  was  from  the  momentous  year  £58^  that  there  dated  the 
latest  and  the  longest  campaign,  or  series  of  campaigns  in  the 
religious  war  of  sixteenth-century  France.  Four  years  of\ 
delusive  quiet  preluded  the  final  conflict.  In  that  interval 
Queen  Ehzabeth  encouraged,  more  actively  than  before,  the 
addresses  of  a  French  suitor,  the  Duke  d'Alen9on,  the  French 
king's  heir  and  brother,  and  her  apparent  earnestness  in  the 
matrimonial  negotiation  fostered  a  fallacious  hope,  both  in 
England  and  France,  of  a  religious  and  political  settlement 
without  further  recourse  to  the  sword.  The  death  of  Queen 
Elizabeth's  French  lover  in  1584  abruptly  revived  the  struggle 
in  its  fiercest  shape.  The  French  king,  Henry  III,  was  now 
brotherless  as  well  as  childless.  The  throne  of  France  had/ 
lost  its  heir,  and  the  process  of  choosing  a  successor  brought  I 
into  the  struggle  a  new  element  of  schism.  Dynastic  rivalry 
thenceforth  embittered  religious  dissent.  Henrj'^  of  Navarre, 
who,  despite  his  disposition  to  gallantry,  was  now  the  accepted 
leader  of  the  Huguenot  forces,  was  lineal  heir  of  the  childless 
king,  and  he  fought  henceforth  for  his  crown  as  well  as  for  his 
faith.  Under  such  stimulus  the  passion  for  political  ascen- 
dancy grew  strong  in  the  right  wing  of  the  Huguenot  ranks. 

Navarre's  uncle,  Cardinal  Charles  de  Bourbon,  whose 
Catholic  fervour  was  unquestioned,  was  promptly  put  for- 
ward by  the  Guises  as  the  royal  Catholic  heir.    Catholics  were 


296        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

adjured  to  acknowledge  no  title  but  his,  A  Catholic  associa- 
tion was  reorganized  under  the  name  of  the  Holy  League  to 
resist  Navarre's  claim  to  the  French  crown. 

The  Holy  League's  appeal  to  vSpanish  support  ostensibly 

ruined  the   Huguenot  chances  of  military  success.      But  the 

foreign   alHance   had   an    effect  opposite  to  that  which    was 

I  designed.     Moderate  Catholics  and  moderate  Huguenots  were 

/  drawn  together  by  a  patriotic  sentiment  which  dreaded  foreign 

(  dominion,  and  thus  there  was  cradled  the  formidable  party  of 
'  LesJPpliticjues  ',  whose  most  effective  bond  of  union  was  hos- 
tility to  the  Guises.  The  French  king,  who  chafed  against 
the  Hispaniolized  sway  of  the  Guises,  bid  boldly  for  the  aid  of 
the  liberal  Catholics,  from  whom  '  Les  Politiques  '  were  largely 
recruited.  Thus  the  Catholics  soon  split  into  two  militant 
factions.  While  the  extremists  raUied  round  the  Guises, 
moderate  men  were  inclined  to  support  the  reigning 
sovereign  against  all  comers,  and  to  leave  the  succession  for 
time  to  settle.  Huguenots  of  various  complexions  at  the  same 
time  marched  together  in  effectual  harmony  under  the  banner 
of  the  king  of  Navarre. 

The  moderate  Catholic  forces  of  the  king  opened  the  strife 
anew  by  rashly  joining  the  advanced  party  of  the  Guises  in 
an  endeavour  to  drive  Navarre  from  the  field.  The  result  was 
a  surprise  for  Navarre's  allied  foe.  He  and  the  Huguenots  won 
at  Coutras,  in  Guienne,  their  first  decisive  victory-  in  battle 
(October,  1587),  Thenceforth  the  star  of  Navarre  was  in  the 
ascendant.  Murderous  acts  of  private  vengeance  combined 
with  natural  processes  of  death  to  remove  from  his  path  his 
most  formidable  rivals,  and  to  clear  the  road  for  his  final 
triumph.  In  December,  1588,  the  French  king  contrived  the 
assassination  of  the  Duke  of  Guise  and  of  his  brother  the 
Cardinal  of  Guise.     Next  month  (on  January  5,  1589)   died 

i  Catherine  de'  Medici,  the  queen-mother,  the  inveterate  foe  of 
the  Huguenots,  and  there  followed  at  St.  Cloud  in  the  sum- 
mer the  murder,  by  the  fanatic  Dominican,  Jacques  Clement, 

:   of  the  French  king  (Henry  III)  (July  31). 

Henry  of  Navarre  thus  advanced  to  the  centre  of  the  French 
political  stage.     The  Elizabethan  public  had  lately  watched 


THE  ACCESSION  OF  HENRY  IV  297 

his  fortunes  with  intense  sympath\  and  he  was  now  their  iclol.i 
The  I^^arl  of  Essex  \vas_an  eager  worshipper.  Enghshl 
volunteers  crowded  to  Henry's  camp.  Shakespeare,  in  one  of 
his  earliest  comedies  [Comedy  0/ Ef^rors,  III.  ii.  128),  reflected 
the  popular  interest  when  he  wrote  of  '  France  armed  and 
reverted,  making  war  against  her  heir '.  Henry's  valour  and 
luck  proved  irresistible.  He  won  the  brilliant  victory  of  Ivry 
(March  14,  1590),  and  the  Holy  League  could  no  longer  bar 
his  passage  to  the  French  throne.  Fate  continued  to  fight 
for  him.  His  uncle,  the  Cardinal  de  Bourbon,  who  was 
Catholic  rival  to  the  crown,  and  was  know^n  to  his  supporters 
as  King  Charles  X,was  removed  by  death  within  two  months 
of  the  triumph  of  Ivry,  and  the  royal  pretender  was  soon 
followed  to  the  grave  (December  8,  1592)  by  the  great 
Spanish  general,  Alexander  of  Parma,  whose  co-operation 
was  all-important  to  the  League.  That  association  was 
thenceforth  rent  by  internal  jealousies.  The  moderate  men 
among  Catholics  and  Huguenots  preached  peace  with  a  new 
energy.  The  cry  of  '  Les  Politiques  '  for  compromise  rang 
with  the  note  of  both  reason  and  expediency,  and  finally 
grew  irresistible. 

But  the  Protestants  were  still  a  minority  of  the  people,  and 
a  nominal  Catholic  could  alone  win  the  allegiance  of  the 
nation  at  large.  Henry's  religious  convictions  were  not  deep, 
and  he  did  not  hesitate  to  cut  the  Gordian  knot  by  choosing 
the  path  of  least  resistance.  He  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
a  cro\vn  was  worth  a  Mass.  He  was  received  into  the  bosom 
of  the  Catholic  Church  at  St.  Denis  on  July  2^,  1593,  when 
he  solemnly  abjured  all  protestant  heresies,  and  was  panegy- 
rized by  the  preacher  Du_Eerron,  who  had  lately  celebrated 
Ronsard's  funeral  obsequies.  Henry  was  anointed  king  of 
France  at  Chartres  on  February  27,  1594,  and  Paris  opened 
her  gates  to  him.  Never  was  new-crowned  monarch  more 
heartily  greeted  by  his  subjects. 

'  Les  Politiques,'  who  were  responsible  for  this  happy  issue, 
found  at  the  height  of  the  crisis  their  most  effective  weapon 
in  literary  satire.  The  dominion  of  the  Catholic  League  received 
its  final  blow^  from  the  pen  and  not  from  the  sword.     During 


298        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

1593  there  were  put  into  circulation  some  flysheets  of  a  journal- 
istic pattern  which  effectively  imputed  to  the  enemies  of  Henry 
of  Navarre  the  meanest  motives  and  a  total  want  of  patriotism. 
The  chieftains  of  the  League  were  represented  as  cunning- 
charlatans  who  gloried  in  a  cynical  contempt  for  the  fortunes 
of  their  country.  Part  of  the  satire  was  cast  in  dramatic  form. 
There  were  placed  in  the  mouths  of  the  Leaguers  and  of  their 
satellites  comically  frank  confessions  of  sordid  principles. 
These  ironies  were  followed  by  eloquent  and  serious  state- 
ments of  the  case  of '  Les  Politiques  '.  The  work  was  chiefly 
written  in  vigorous  prose.  But  there  were  interludes  of  gro- 
tesque or  flamboyant  verse.  The  original  flysheets  were  first 
collected  and  published  with  amplifications  in  the  summer  of 
1594,  under  the  title  of  La  Satire  Menippee}  Additions 
^  were  made  in  subsequent  issues,  which  were  numerous.  The 
authorship  was  anonymous ;  but  at  least  eight  of  the  writers 
have  been  identified.  Among  them  were  the  poets  Jean  Pas- 
secat  and  Gilles  Durant,  who  were  tuneful  disciples  of  Ron- 
sard,  and  the  dramaFi'st  Florent  Chretien,  who  was  at  one 
time  a  convinced  Huguenot.  Few  political  pamphlets  proved 
of  greater  effect.  Elizabethan  England  welcomed  with  cha- 
racteristic promptitude  this  sturdy  assault  on  Catholic  bigotry. 
La  Satire  Menippee  helped  to  guide  public  opinion  in  Eng- 
j  land.  Within  a  few  months  of  the  publication  of  the  work 
I  in  French  an  English  translation  was  licensed  by  the  Sta- 
Uioners'  Company  in  London  (September  28,  1594).  The 
English  version,  which  retained  little  of  the  polish  of  the 
original,  duly  appeared  next  year  under  the  title,  '  A  Pleasant 
Satyre  or  Poesie.  Wherein  is  discovered  the  Catholicon 
[i.  e.  the  quack  medicine]  of  Spayne,  and  the  chiefe  leaders  of 
the  League  finelie  fetcht  over  and  laide  open  in  their  colours.' 
The  French  text  greeted  the  accession  of  Henry  of  Navarre 
to  the  throne  of  France  with  a  spirited  enthusiasm  which, 
despite    the   uncouthness  of  the   English  rendering,  braced 

•  The  name  was  suggested  by  the  Saturae  Menippeae  of  Varro,  a  volu- 
minous Latin  author  of  Cicero's  epoch.  Only  fragments  survive  of  Varro's 
work.  It  was  an  imitation  of  a  lost  treatise  by  the  cynic  philosopher 
Menippus  of  Gadara.  See  Teuffel  and  Schwabe,  History  of  Roman 
Literature,  1891,  i.  255-6. 


1 


THE  EDICT  OE  NANTES  299 

Elizabethan  sympathy.     vSomc  lines  by  Passerat,  which  were 
addressed  to  the  new  king,  ran  in  the  I^nglish  volume  thus : 

Unconciuered   prince,   and  of  thine    age   the  glorie  eke 
alone, 

Euen  God  himselfe  doth  set  thee  up   upon  thy  grand - 
sire's  throne  ; 

And  with  a  happy  hand  doth  reach  to  thee  two  scep- 
ters braue. 

Which,  taken  from  the  Spanish  foe,  thou  shalt  uphold 
and  haue.^ 
With  Henry  IV's  coronation  the  politico-religious  struggle' 
in  France  w-as  over  for  the  century.     The  old  religion  then 
came  to  terms  with  the  new.      Spain  made  a  strenuous  effort 
to  hamper  the  settlement,  and  war  with  her  quickly  broke  out; 
afresh.     But  Spanish  aggression  failed  to  restore  the  supre-' 
macy  of  extreme  Catholicism.  The  French  Church  had  always 
claimed  much  independence  of  the  Papacy,  and  the  recent  1 
progress  of  events  intensified  a  desire  for  the  conservation  of 
Galhcan  liberties.      Tiie_jLntij}atioiial^ Jesuits  were  expelledj 
from  the  country.     The  invasion  of  the  Spaniards  was  arrested. 
Internal  and  external  developments  facilitated  the  emancipa- 
tion of  the  Huguenots.     The  new  king  w^as  able  to  secure, 
by  the  edict  of  Nantes,,  a  practical  measure  of  toleration   for 
the,  French.  Protestants,  at  whose  head  he  had  fought.     That 
edict  w^as  promulgated  on  April  13,  1598?)    Three  weeks  later 
peace  was  signed  with  Spain,  and  all  clouds   for   the   time 
vanished  from  the  French  sky. 

By  the  edict  of  Nantes,  the  principle  of  liberty  of  conscience 
was  secured  to  the  Huguenots.  Religious  tests  in  the  public 
service  were  abolished,  and  if  restrictive  clauses  narrowed  the 
practical  scope  of  the  enfranchisement,  none  could  question  that 
Protestantism  had  won  a  substantial  triumph,  Protestant  Eng- 
land, which  had  been  shocked  by  Henry  IV's  apostasy,  was 
reconciled  to  him  partly  by  his  difficulties  with  Spain,  her 
own  inveterate  foe,  and  wholly  by  his  tolerant  policy. 

^  A  Pleasant  Satyre,  1595,  p.  196.  The  volume  has  the  sub-title, 
A  Satyre  Menippized.  The  '  two  sceptres '  in  the  quotation  are  those  of 
France  and  Navarre.  '  Grandsire'  is  the  English  translator's  inaccurate 
attempt  to  reproduce  the  French  poet's  allusion  in  a  later  line  to 
Henry  IV's  distant  descent  from  Saint  Louis,  who  reigned  in  the 
thirteenth  century. 


300       THE  MESSAGE  OI^^  THE  HUGUENOTS 

/  The  edict  of  Nantes  was  hailed  on  both  sides  of  the  Channel 
as  a  Mag-na  Charta  of  Protestantism.  Not  that  suspicion  of 
the  Reformed  creed  was  extinguished  in  Catholic  France  by 
the  great  compromise.  In  the  next  century  a  strong  Catholic 
reaction  opened  anew  the  sectarian  controversy  in  its  acutest 
/form.  The  old  faith  regained  its  strength  and  the  edict 
[was  revoked  in  1685.  Proof  was  then  conclusive  that,  what- 
ever the  French  affinity  with  the  intellectual  side  of  Huguenot 
enlightenment,  something  in  the  doctrine  of  Luther  or  Calvin 
was  alien  to  the  French  national  spirit.  But  though  the 
Huguenot  triumph  of  the  sixteenth  century  proved  in  the 
end  to  be  transitory,  Elizabethan  England  reckoned  it  for 
the  time  a  final  miracle  of  God's  grace.  Sympathy  with 
France  deepened.  At  the  end  of  Elizabeth's  reign  the 
governments  of  the  two  countries  cherished  in  their  diplomatic 
relations  an  unprecedented  amity.  There  was  a  widening 
of  the  scope  of  French  influence  on  English  thought  and 
literature. 

Ill 

Huguenot  Settlers  and  Visitors  in  England 

^  One  effect  of  the  vain  effort  of  the  French  Catholic  govern- 
ment to  curb  Huguenot  dissent  by  persecution  was  to  drive 

'  many  French  Protestants  from  their  native  land.  Some  found 
asylum  in  the  Low  Countries  and  some  in  Germany.  But 
England  was  the  land  of  promise  which  attracted  the  greater 
number  of  these  Huguenot  emigres.  The  peaceful  invasion  of 
Britain  began  ia^the.  reign  of^EdwardVL^a  few  years  after  the 
policy  of  coercion  was  openly  proclaimed  by  the  ministers  of 
Francis  I.  The  stream  of  immigration  flowed  continuously 
throughout  the  young  kings  reign.  There  was  naturally 
a  cessation  during  the  Catholic  reaction  of  Queen  Mary's 
sovereignty,  and  the  Protestant  aliens  retreated  to  kindlier 
havens  in  Holland  or  Switzerland.  But  Huguenot  incursions 
were  renewed  in  larger  volume  at  the  opening  of  Queen 
Elizabeth's  reign,  and  were  gready  encouraged  by  Archbishop 
Parker,  who  declared  it  a  cardinal  point  of  piety  to  befriend 


THE  HUGUENOT  REFUGEES       301 

'  these  g-entle  and  profitable  strangers  '.^  Till  the  end  of  the 
century  F.no-Hsh  ports  were  freely  opened  to  French  refugees. 
FZvery  critical  disaster  which  befell  the  Huguenot  communities 
at  home  quickened  the  tide  of  immigration  into  England.  The 
massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew's  Day  in  i  =^'J2,  and  the  temporary 
triumph  of  the  Catholic  League  in  1585,  sent  ships  crowded 
with  Huguenot  families  to  the  coasts  of  Kent,  Sussex,  or  Hamp- 
shire. The  Huguenots  well  deserved  a  greeting  of  tolerance 
and  charity.  But  the  insular  prejudice  against  aliens  was  never 
wholly  silenced  in  Britain.  In  1593,  when  a  bill  was  introduced 
into  the  House  of  Commons  prohibiting  aliens  from  selling  by 
retail  any  foreign  commodity,  the  ancient  cry  against  foreigners 
was  raised  at  Westminster.  Sir  Robert  Cecil,  the  Queen's 
Secretary,  attacked  the  illiberal  sentiment  with  fine  spirit.  In 
the  name  of  the  Queen's  government  he  resisted  any  restriction 
on  foreign  traders,  and  gave  voice  to  a  feeling  of  rare  enlighten- 
ment when  he  asserted  that  the  relief  afforded  by  England  to 
strangers  '  hath  brought  great  honour  to  our  Kingdom  ;  for  it 
is  accounted  a  refuge  for  distressed  nations,  for  our  arms  have 
been  opened  unto  them  to  cast  themselves  into  our  bosoms  '.^ 

The  aliens  of  Elizabethan  England  were  in  constant  pro- 
cess of  reinforcement  by  visitors  not  only  from  France,  but 
from  Flanders,  Germany,  and  even  Italy  and  Spain.  All  these  - 
countries  drove  forth  Protestant  exiles  for  conscience'  sake. 
But  the  F'rench  community  in  England  remained  more  nume- 
rous and  influential  than  the  settlement  of  any  other  foreign 
nation.  On  Elizabeth's  accession  the  French  immigrants  were 
presented  by  the  sovereign  with  a  church  of  their  own,  and  the 
edifice,  which  was  in  Threadneedle  Street,  soon  became  a 
Huguenot  cathedral  of  England,  with  daughter-churches  scat- 
tered through  the  land,      London  was  only  one  of  the  British 

^  Strype  s  Life  of  Archbishop  Parker,  1821,  i.  276.  References  to  the 
French  Protestant  refugees  in  Elizabethan  England  abound  in  Strype's 
Annals.  The  subject  is  fully  treated  in  Smiles,  The  Huguenots  .  .  .  itt 
England  and  Ireland,  1 880,  and  in  Baron  F.  De  Schickler's  Les  cglises 
du  refuge  en  Angieterre,  1 547-1685,  3  torn.,  Paris,  1892.  See  also  the 
publications  of  the  Huguenot  Society,— especially  Registers  of  the  French 
Church,  Threadneedle  Street,  1896- 1906;  Returns  of  Aliens  in  London, 
Henry  VII  I-James  I,  ed.  R.  E.G.  and  E.  F.  Kirk,  1900  ;  Letters  of  Deniza- 
tioti  .  .  .for  aliens  in  England,  1 509-1603,  ed.  \V.  Page,  1893. 

■^  D&wts'  Journals,  pp.  508-9. 


3()2        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

cities  of  refuge.  Huguenots  abounded  in  the  villages  near  the 
metropolis.  Arras  works  at  Mortlake,  tapestry  works  at  Ful- 
ham,  bore  witness  to  the  presence  of  French-speaking  residents. 
Tottenham  was  reported  to  have  become  a  French  settlement. 
Further  afield,  Huguenots  were  prominent  at  Southampton, 
Canterbury,  in  all  the  Cinque  ports,  and  at  Norwich.  Every- 
where they  had  their  churches  and  schools,  and  at  Canterbury 
they  were  suffered  by  Archbishop  Parker  to  worship,  from 
1564  onwards,  in  the  crypt  or  undercroft  of  the  Cathedral. 
There  is  no  ineans  of  ascertaining  the  precise  numbers  of  the 
Huguenot  population  in  the  whole  country  during  the  sixteenth 
;  century,  but  it  could  hardly  have  fallen  below  the  total  of 
10,000.  At  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  baptisms 
in  the  chief  French  church  of  London  —that  in  Threadneedle 
vStreet — averaged  annually  at  least  100. 

The  settlers,  who  were  invariably  of  small  means,  chiefly 
comprised  skilled  artisans — silkweavers,  tapestry  workers, 
printers,  bookbinders — or  doctors  of  medicine,  and  ministers  ot 
the  faith.  Normans  were  largely  represented  amongst  them, 
but  numbers  came  from  Orleans,  Poitiers,  and  the  cities  of  the 
south.  Many  mechanical  arts  were  greatly  improved  by 
these  humble  emigres}  Their  pastors  often  showed  scholarly 
attainments,  and  their  medical  practitioners  gave  proof  of 
unusual  skill.  It  was  no  mere  literary  influence  which  the 
presence  of  these  French  sojourners  exerted  on  the  land  of 
their  adoption.  They  tended  to  raise  the  standard  of  intel- 
lectual efficiency  and  of  material  comfort  in  their  English 
environment. 

International  sympathy  was  stimulated  by  the  Huguenot 
invasion  of  England,  and  on  occasion  Huguenots  were  in  a 
position  to  return  in  their  own  country  the  services  of  hospi- 
tality which  their  fellows  received  from  English  hosts.  From 
an  early  date  the  port  of  ^LaRochelle,  a  chief  stronghold 
of  the    Huguenots,  was   in   close   touch  with  the  advanced 

^  Shakespeare  was  acquainted  with  a  ftimily  of  Huguenot  refugees.  In 
1604  he  was  lodging  in  the  house,  in  Silver  Street,  Cripplegate,  of  one 
Christopher  Montjoy,  a  Huguenot  tiremaker  or  wigmaker,  and  took 
part  in  a  family  quarrel.  See  '  New  Shakespeare  Discoveries '  by 
Dr.  C.  W.  Wallace  in  Harper'' s  Magazine,  March,  1910. 


AN  ENGLISH  PRESS  AT  LA  ROCHELLE     303 

section  of  Elizabethan  Puritans,  and  the  printing  presses 
of  the  French  city  were  at  times  placed  at  the  disposal  of 
Elizabethan  controversialists,  to  whose  extreme  opinions  the 
English  authorities  refused  the  liberty  of  publication.  The 
manuscripts  of  many  Puritan  theologians  of  the  strictest 
type  were  sent  across  the  sea  to  be  printed.  As  early 
as  1574  Walter  Travers,  one  of  the  most  eminent  of  the 
school  of  English  Calvinists,  wrote  his  famous  Ecclcsiasticae 
Disciplinae  ct  Aiiglicaiiae  Ecdcsiae  ad  ilia  Abei^j^ationis 
plena  c  verbo  Dei  et  diliicida  explication  and  caused  it  to  be 
printed  anonymously  at  La  Rochelle.  The  same  Huguenot 
citadel  was  at  times  the  asylum  of  English  publishers  and 
authors  who  had  incurred  the  wrath  of  the  rulers  of  the  Angli- 
can Church.  In  1589  90  the  city  was  the  home  of  a  Puritan\ 
printer,  Robert  Waldegrave,  who  had  been  exiled  from  Lon-  j 
don  for  issuing  attacks  on  the  English  bishops.  After^  printing  K 
in  1588-9  some  of  the  MartixL  Marprelate  tracts,  in  which  the 
endeavour  was  made  to  undermine  episcopacy_Jby:_fQrjce--of 
ridicule,  \\'aldegrave  escaped  late  in  1589  from  the  fury 
of  the  bishops  in  London  to  La  Rochelle.  Subsequently  he 
found  a  safe  haven  at  Edinburgh,  but  he  followed  his  trade 
during  1590  in  the  great  Huguenot  seaport.  At  least  t^vo  of. 
the  Martin  Alarprelate  pamphlets,  which  excelled  in  scurrility 
any  of  theircompanions, — Penry's  Appellation  in  March,  1590, 
and  Job  Throckmorton's  M\asfer  Robert^  Sojne  laid  open 
in  his  Colonics  in  April, — came  under  Waldegrave 's  auspices 
from  a_La_JRochelle  press.  \'efy^ close  was'^he  intimacy 
bet\\'een  the  active  pamphleteers  of  the  ultra- Puritan  Revolution 
in  London  and  the  Huguenot  leaders  in  the  South  of  France. 
Few  Huguenot  scholars  settled  permanently  in  Eliza- 
bethan England,  but  many  figured  prominently  as  occasional 
visitors.  One  of  these,  Antony  Rudolf  Chevallier,  a 
Norman,  was  a  temporary  guest  of  Archbishop  Cranmer 
in  Edward  Ms  reign,  and  in  the  early  years  of  Eliza- 
beth's reign  he  returned  to  serve  as  Hebrew  professor  at 
Cambridge.  Pierre  du  Moulin,  the  learned  son  of  the 
Huguenot  pastor  of  Orleans,  fled  before  the  Catholic  League's 
predominance  to  study  at  Cambridge,  earning  his  livelihood 


304        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

by  instructing  the  boy-earl  of  Rutland  and  his  brother.     Of 
far  greater  note  was  Henri  Etienne,  the  Huguenot  scholar- 

f  printer  and  a  chief  apostle  oF  Renaissance  culture,  who 
wandered    about   England   during  the   middle  years  of  the 

\  century.  Toward  the  end  of  the  period  there  came  Joseph 
Scalio-er— the  younger  Scaliger— a  Huguenot  scholar  of 
supreme  genius,  who  not  only  edited  with  infinite  skill  many 
classical  texts,  but  with  wonderful  ingenuity  determined  the 
chronology  of  Greek  and  Roman  history.  According  to 
Mark  Pattison,  Scaliger  possessed  '  the  most  richly  stored 
intellect  which  ev^er  spent  itself  in  acquiring  knowledge  '.  It 
is  to  be  regretted  that  so  eminent  a   guest  formed  a  goor 

I  opinion  of  both  the  scholarship  and  the  manners  of  his  English 

'  hosts.  He  imputed  indolence  to  the  fellows  at  Cambridge  ;  he 
detected  a  narrow  sectarianism  in  English  churchmen,  and 
deemed  the  disposition  of  the  lower  orders  inhuman.  But  he 
admired  the  wealth  of  Church  foundations  despite  diminution 
through  Henry  VIII's  spoliation ;  he  studied  with  interest 
border-ballads,  and  opened  a  correspondence  with  Camden,  the 
great  Elizabethan  antiquary,  and  with  Richard  Thomson,  a 
Cambridge  scholar  who  greatly  benefited  by  his  erudition.^ 
Scaliger's  intimate  friend  and  co-religionist,  Isaac  Casaubon, 

■  whose  Greek  culture  was  cast  in  his  own  mould,  settled  in 
England  in  James  Is  reign,  and  kept  alive  there  Elizabethan 
memories  of  Huguenot  scholarship. 

Some  Huguenot  visitors  to  Elizabethan  England  suggest 
yet  another  sort  of  influence  which  came  from  Protestant 
France  to  colour  English  aspiration.  In  spite  of  the  welcome 
offered  by  Elizabethan  England  to  Huguenot  refugees,  the 

(exiles  rarely  lost  the  sense  that  they  were  living  under  a 
foreign  law  and  dispensation.  Many  times  there  flashed 
across  the  Huguenot  mind,  when  the  fortunes  of  the  party 
sank  low  in  P~rance,  the  idea  of  a  settlement  across  the 
Atlantic,  where  not  only  would  threats  of  persecution  be 
silenced,  but  where  God's  saints  might  reign  in  a  peaceful 
autonomy  free  of  all  taint  of  foreign  subservience.  Twice 
a  vigorous  effort  was  made  to  give  effect  to  this  mirage  of 
^  Mark  Pattison's  Essays,  New  Universal  Library,  i.  1 16-17. 


THE  HUGUENOTS  IN  FLORIDA  305 

an  inclepetKl£ilt_tiuguenQt_proyince  in  America,  and  though 
the  endeavours  had  no  permanent  result,  they  fostered,  in 
England  as  well  as  in  France,  hopes  of  a  colonial  empire, 
which  should  be  purged  of  all  the  political  corruptions  of  the 
Old  \\'orld  and  give  liberty  a  fresh  scope.  The  Elizabethan 
design  of  Virginia  and  the  Puritan  foundation  of  New  England 
were  ventures  of  Englishmen  who  more  or  less  consciously 
followed  in  Huguenot  footsteps. 

The  first  Huguenot  scheme  of  American  colonization 
was  tried  in  Brazil  in  1555.  The  Huguenot  leader,  Nicholas 
Durand,  Sieur  de  Villegaghon,  had  been  one  of  Calvin's  fellow 
students  at  the  University  of  Paris.  The  expedition  enjoyed 
the  benediction  of  Calvin,  and  French  pastors  from  Geneva 
were  among  the  settlers.  But  Villegagnon's  adventure  came 
to  early  grief,  amid  discouraging  omens.  The  second  enter- 
prise, which  had  a  different  destination  in  the  vaguely  defined 
district  of  Florida  (in  the  northern  continent)  more  forcibly 
impressed  Elizabethan  thought  and  aspiration.  Jean  Ribaut, 
a  Dieppe  captain  of  good  family  and  strong  Calvinist  feeling, 
was  its  chief  organizer,  and  he  was  for  a  time  a  refugee  in 
Elizabethan  England.  It  was  at  the  request  of  Coligny,  the 
Huguenot  chieftain,  who  was  an  active  patron  of  the  Florida 
scheme  of  occupation,  that  Ribaut  undertook  his  task  in  1562. 

Ribaut  quickly  formed  a  miniature  Huguenot  plantation 
on  Floridan  shores,  and,  leaving  his  fellow  settlers  there,  he 
returned  to  Europe  to  consult  the  Huguenot  leaders  at  home. 
But  his  native  land  was  torn  by  civil  war  on  his  arrival,  and  his 
patrons  were  in  no  mood  to  give  him  a  hearing.  Retiring 
to  England  to  formulate  plans  for  the  future,  he  remained 
there  for  two  years.  In  London  he  wrote  out  in  French  his 
story  of  the  Huguenot  discovery  and  settlement  of  '  Terra 
Florida '.  The  book,  which  was  a  stimulating  contribution  to 
the  literature  of  American  exploration,  had  the  fortune  to  be 
published  in  London  in  1563  in  an  English  translation.  That 
rendering  is  the  only  form  in  which  Ribaut's  work  has  sur- 
vived, for  no  copy  of  his  original  French  is  extant.  While 
Ribaut  lingered  in  England,  his  French  settlement  in  Florida 
received  notable  reinforcements  under  Rene  de  Laudonniere, 

LEE  X 


3o6        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

a  Huguenot  nobleman  of  sternest  Calvlnist  convictions. 
Finally  in  1564  Ribaut  re-crossed  the  Atlantic  ocean,  but  only 
to  play  on  the  other  side  the  part  of  protagonist  in  a  ghastly 
tragedy.  W^ithin  five  days  of  his  arrival  in  Florida,  he  was 
slain  by  Spanish  buccaneers,  who  massacred  all  but  a  handful 
of  the  Huguenot  colonists. 

News  of  Ribaut's  tragic  fate  spread  rapidly  through  Eliza- 
bethan England  and  moved  anger  and  dismay.  The  Huguenot 
invasion  of  Florida  riveted  itself  on  Elizabethan  attention. 
A  few  Frenchmen  had  under  the  leadership  of  Laudonniere 
evaded  Spanish  vengeance.  These  survivors  landed,  by  an 
accident  of  navigation,  after  their  hairbreadth  escape,  at 
Swansea,  and  travelled  to  London  for  the  most  part  on  foot. 
Most  of  them  managed  to  return  to  France.  But  their  mis- 
fortunes excited  infinite  pity  in  England.  A  vivacious  report 
of  Ribaut's  massacre  was  quickly  published  in  Paris  by  one 
of  his  surviving  companions,  Nicholas  le  Challeux,  a  car- 
penter, who,  on  his  journey  out  to  Florida,  had  spent  nearly 
three  weeks  in  the  Isle  of  Wight.  Le  Challeux's  statement 
achieved  instant  popularity  in  an  English  translation.  In- 
deed, all  the  French  literature  concerning  the  Huguenot 
I  attempt  on  Florida  enjoyed  a  general  vogue  in  English 
Vversions.  The  colonial  ambitions  of  Elizabethans  were 
thereby  quickened.  Richard  Haklu^'t  began  his  great  career 
of  literary  advocate  of  Elizabethan  colonization  of  America  by 
publishing,  in  1582,  a  volume  oi  Diners  voyages  touching  the 
discover ie  of  America^  in  which  Ribaut's  early  treatise  filled 
the_chie£space.  Hakluyt  spent  the  next  five  years  in  Paris 
as  chaplain  to  the  English  Embassy  there,  and  before  he 
came  home  he  published  in  an  English  rendering  another 
elaborate  account  of  the  Florida  expedition,  by  one  who 
played  almost  as  prominent  a  part  in  its  fortunes  as  Ribaut 
himself, — by  Rene  de  Laudonniere.  Laudonniere 's  work  had 
just  issued  for  the  first  time  from  the  press  at  Paris  when 
Hakluyt  turned  it  into  his  own  language. 

Of  the  most  cultured  of  Laudonniere's  companions  in 
Plorida,  an  interesting  story  remains  to  tell.  The  artist  of 
the  expedition,  Jacques  Le  Moine,  made  his  permanent  home 


THK  COLONIAL  ASPIRATION  307 

in  England,  and  the  i^ketchcs  of^FJoiida,  which  he  preserved, 
sowed  seeds  of  colomafambition  in  many  English  minds. 
Le  Moine  settled  in  Blackfriars,  and  vSir  Walter  Raleigh  was 
among  his  patrons.  Raleigh's  effort  of  1584  to  people  with 
luiglishmen  the  American  region  which  he  christened  Virginia 
owed  much  to  the  suggestion  of  the  Huguenot  experience. 
X'^irginia  was  a  part  of  the  district  which  Ribaut  and  his  com- 
panions knew  as  Terra  Florida.  At  Raleigh's  expense  Le 
Moine  developed  in  colours  his  pictorial  notes  of  his  American 
observations.  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  the  Paladin  of  Elizabethan  ( 
benefactors  of  the  Huguenot  cause,  likewise  acquired  from  j 
Le  Moine  some  of  his  colonial  aspiration.  To  Sidney's  wife  1 
the  Huguenot  artist  dedicated  a  published  collection  of  draw- 
ings of  birds,  beasts,  flowers,  and  fruits.  The  artist's  fame, 
fanned  by  such  patronage,  spread  far  and  wide,  De  Bry,  the 
great  Frankfort  publisher  and  engraver,  came  to  London  to 
bargain  with  him  for  the  purchase  of  his  rich  portfolio  of 
sketches  of  Floridan  Hfe  and  nature.  But  the  refugee  declined 
to  entertain  the  offer  from  a  sense  of  loyalty  to  his  English 
friends.  After  his  death,  his  widow  ignoring  his  scruples, 
made  over  his  work  to  the  German  dealer,  who  at  once  gave 
engravings  of  it  to  the  admiring  world  of  Europe.  Though 
Elizabethan  England  was  slow^er  than  western  countries  on  the 
continent  to  grasp  new  ideas  and  opportunities,  the  Huguenot 
zeal  for  colonial  enterprise  provoked  a  response  in  the  Eliza- 
bethan mind.  The  presence  of  Huguenots  on  English  soil 
proved  an  invigorating  spur  to  action  as  well  as  to  thought.^ 

IV 

The  Devotional  Literature  of  the  Huguenots 

The  Huguenots,  despite  their  activity  in  other  spheres 
of  labour,  were  always  energetic  waelders  of  the  pen.  Little 
of  their  literary  activity  escaped   Elizabethan  notice.     Their 

*  The  connexion  of  the  Huguenot  Settlements  with  English  endeavours 
of  later  date  is  treated  by  the  present  writer  in  the  second  article  ('The 
Teaching  of  the  Huguenots  ')  of  a  series,  called  '  America  and  Elizabethan 
England  ',  in  Scribner''s  Magazine,  1907.  Hakluyt's  translation  of  Ribaut 
and  Laudonnicre's  narratives  is  a  main  authority. 

X  2 


3oS        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

relig-ious  poetr)'  evoked  a  paean  of  welcome.  Nor  were  the 
political  and  theological  views  of  the  Huguenots  less  admiringly 
studied  by  Elizabethan  Englishmen,  and  Huguenot  prose 
played  no  inconspicuous  part  in  the  literary  history  of  England 
through  the  eras  alike  of  Queen  Elizabeth  and  of  her  two 
immediate  successors.  The  Huguenots'  mingled  hopes  of 
theological  and  political  reform  led  to  a  rich  and  varied 
harvest  of  both  theological  and  political  treatises  and  pam- 
phlets. The  Huguenot  prose  writers  treated  the  theory  and 
practice  of  politics  with  an  originality  and  a  disrespect  for 
conservative  convention,  which  especially  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  Shakespeare's  fellow  countrymen. 

French  Protestant  theology  for  the  most  part,  as  far  as 
style  went,  aimed  at  Calvin's  lucid  precision.  Latin  was  its 
frequent  vehicle  of  expression,  but  the  French  language  was 
in  common  use,  and  lent  many  a  touch  of  vivid  colour  to 
the  arid  wastes  of  religious  controversy.  Pierre  \"iret,  one 
of  Calvin's  most  active  lieutenants,  was  a  lively  pamphleteer 
despite  his  dogmatic  earnestness,  and  his  works  circulated 
in  English  translations  among  the  faithful  in  Edward  \Ts 
and  in  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign  quite  as  briskly  as  the  more 
authoritative  performances  of  his  master.  Of  Calvin's  leading 
disciples  the  name  most  familiar  to  Shakespeare's  generation 
was  that  of  Theodore  Beza,  who  filled  after  Calvin's  death  his 
place  as  chieftain  of  the  Genevan  state,  holding  office  from 
1564  until  his  death  in  1607.  Beza's  prolonged  career  of 
eighty-seven  years,  his  versatile  accomplishments  as  humanist 
and  theologian,  and  his  personal  relations  with  Englishmen, 
gave  his  name  and  work  an  especial  prominence  in  English 
life.  P'or  half  a  century  he  was  in  constant  correspondence 
with  English  churchmen  and  puritan  laymen,  urging  on 
both  from  the  days  of  Edward  VI  the  settlement  of  those 
religious  differences  which  split  Protestant  P^ngland  asunder. 
He  declined  a  pressing  invitation  to  settle  in  the  country 
soon  after  Queen  Elizabeth's  accession,  when  France  was  no 
longer  a  safe  abode.  But  he  acknowledged  the  courtesy  of 
the  hospitable  offer  by  presenting  to  Cambridge  University 
one  of  the  earliest  extant  codices  of  the  Greek  Testament, 


BEZA  AND  FRENCH  PSALMODY  309 

which  still  enjoys  universal  repute  as  the  Codex  Bezac.     Zest 
for  biblical  scholarship  was  one  of  Beza's  foremost  interests, 
and  he    pressed  its  claim   to  public  endowment    on   Queen 
Elizabeth's  prime  minister,  Lord  l^urghley.^     Beza's  house  at 
Geneva  was  always  open  to  English  and  to  Scottish  travellers 
through    the   last    four    decades    of   the    sixteenth    century. 
Among  his  guests  midway  through  that  epoch  was  Francis 
Bacon's  brother  Antony,  to   whose    mother,    '  in    testimonie 
of  the  honour  and  reverence  I  beare  to  the  vertue  of  you  and 
yours,'  he  dedicated  on  Nov.  i,  1581,  his  Christian  Medita- 
tions upon  Eight  Fsaims^     In  1588  he  sent  a  congratulatory  , 
message  to  Queen  Elizabeth    on  the   defeat  of  the  Spanish 
Armada,  in  the  form  of  a  Latin  epigram,  and  it  was  published  as 
a  popular  broadside,  not  only  in  Latin,  but  with  translations  into  ^ 
English,  Dutch,  Spanish,  Hebrew,  Greek,  Italian,  and  French.  \ 
Probably  Beza  w^on  his  chief  popularity    in   England  and  1 
exerted  his  widest    influence   as  a   translator   into   verse    ol 
the  Psalms.     He  was  a  chief  promoter  of  psalmody  in  Pro-  ( 
testant  w^orship,  which  may  be  claimed  as  an  invention  of  the 
French  Reformers.     Luther  based  on  a  German  translation 
of  certain  psalms  a  few  hymns  wdiich  enjoyed  a  wide  vogue. 
But  the  general  habit  of  psalm-singing  did  not  come  from' 
Germany   to   either    France   or   England.     It  was  the  poet 
Clement  Marot  who  first  stirred  the  Huguenot    passion  for 
psalmody.     Marot  addressed  the  ladies  of  France  in  a  poetic 
preface  to  his  translation  of  fifty  psalms  into  French  verse. 
He  foretold  a  golden  age,  when  psalmody  would  deprive  toil 
of  all  its  pain.     The  labourer  would  sing  psalms  beside  his 
plough,  the  carmen  would  chant  them  on  the  high  roads,  and 

1  Strype's  Annals  (Oxford,  1S28),  III.  i.  no,  197-8- 

2  lieza's  Christian  Meditations  were  published  in  English  in  1582.  In 
the  dedication  to  Lady  Bacon,  Beza  is  made  by  the  translator  to  state 
that  the  manuscripts  had  long  lain  unused,  '  where  they  had  lyen  still,  had 
not  bene  the  comming  of  master  Anthony  Bacon  your  sonne,  into  these 
partes  :  whom  when  I  saw  to  take  pleasure  in  this  little  piece  of  woorke, 
and  again  knowing  by  the  latin  letters  wherewith  it  hath  liked  you  to 
honour  me,  the  great  and  singular,  yea  extraordinarie  graces  wherwith 
God  hath  indewed  you,  and  whereof  I  acknowledge  a  very  paterne  in  your 
said  sonne  :  I  perswaded  my  selfe  that  it  should  not  be  displeasing  to 
you,  if  this  small  volume  carying  your  name  upon  the  browe,  were  offered 
to  you.'  Beza  dedicated  his  Icones  (1580)  to  James  V'l  of  Scotland,  and 
mentions  the  interest  he  felt  in  the  Scottish  students  at  Geneva. 


3IO        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

the  shopkeeper  would  hum  them  over  his  counter.     Marot's 

prophecy  almost  came  true  in  sixteenth -century  France  and 

vSwitzerland,  not  so  much  through  his  own  effort  as  through 

eza's  energetic  intervention.      Marot's  fragmentary  work  as 

French  psalmist  was  completed  by  Beza.     All  the  psalms,  save 

those  with  which  Marot  had  dealt,  were  turned  by  him  into 

French  verse.      The  tameness  of  his  muse   when  compared 

with  the  vigour  of  that  of  his  predecessor  excited  the  ridicule 

of  the  critics,^  but  Beza's  pious  rhymes  were  welcomed  with 

enthusiasm  by  the  Calvinist  rank  and  file.     Popular  French 

tunes  were  adapted  to  the  completed  French  psalter  under 

the  sanction  of  Beza  and  the  rulers  of  Geneva.     They  decreed 

I  that  literal  renderings  of  the  Psalms  were,  with  the  biblical 

\  canticles,  the  only  words  fit    for  singing  in  divine  worship. 

iMany  of  Beza's  and  Marot's  French  renderings,  set  to  brisk 

i music,  became   not   only   the  battle-songs  of  the  Huguenot 

'army,  but   the   recreation  of  Huguenot  households  at  work 

and  play.    Psalmody  became  as  popular  outside  the  Protestant 

temples  as  inside. 

The  psalmody  of  the  Huguenots  awoke  the  sympathy  of 
English  Protestants.  The  musical  notation  of  the  Geneva 
Psalter  of  1551,  to  which  Beza  was  the  largest  contributor  of 
words,  may  be  almost  said  to  have  called  into  being  the  psalm - 
singing  proclivities  of  the  Elizabethan  Puritan.  The  psalm- 
tunes  which  enjoyed  the  widest  popularity  in  Elizabethan 
England  were  for  the  most  part  of  French  invention.  The 
'  Old  Hundredth ',  which  develops  the  harmony  of  an  early 
French  ballad,  figured  first  in  the  French  Psalter  of  1551,  and 
was  transferred  with  many  companion  melodies  of  like  origin 
to  an  P2nglish  rendering  of  the  Psalms  Vv^hich  was  published 

'  A  contemporary  epigram  contrasted  Beza's  and  Marot's  psalms  thus  : 
Ceux  de  Marot,  c'est  d'Amphion  la  lyre, 
Ou  du  dieu  Pan  le  flageol  gracieux  ; 
Mais  ceux  de  Beze  un  frangois  vicieux, 
Rude  et  contraint,  et  fascheux  a  merveilles. 
Donne  k  Marot  le  laurier  gracieux, 
A  Beze,  quoi  ?  de  Midas  les  oreilles. 
Beza  in  a  clumsy  answer  retorted  that  he  would  borrow  his  ass's  ears  of  his 
critic.     {La  Bibliothcque  (TAnkuuc  du  Verdier,  si'igncur  dc  Vattprivas, 
Lyons,  1585,  p.  1172.) 


DU  PLESSIS  311 

ten  years  later.  Psalm-singing  failed  to  become  quite  so  in- 
sistent a  feature  of  life  in  Elizabethan  England  as  in  Huguenot 
France,  yet  it  largely  owed  to  French  example  such  scope  as 
it  enjoyed  among  Shakespeare's  fellow  countrymen.  When 
Shakespeare  imputed  to  Puritans  as  a  distinctive  mark  the 
habit  of  'singing  psalms  to  hornpipes',  he  obviously  had  in  J 
mind  some  of  the  lively  measures  which  Protestant  Frenchmen 
had  adapted  to  purposes  of  religious  exercise. 

Beza,  when  his  name  loomed  largest  in  England,  was 
a  French  pastor  who  was  domiciled  at  Geneva,  and  was  far 
removed  from  the  peril  of  current  tumults  in  France.  The 
Huguenot  layman  who  doggedly  defended  his  creed  with  both 
pen  and  sword  near  his  own  hearthstone  through  all  the  storms 
of  the  civil  war  was  a  type  of  religious  champion  which 
more  nearly  touched  the  Elizabethan  heart.  The  heir  of  the 
Huguenot  fervour  who  stirred  through  Shakespeare's  life- 
time a  vital  sympathy  was  a  cultured  French  nobleman, 
Philippe  de  Mornay,  Seigneur  Du^lessis- Marly  (1549-1623). 
Du  Plessis  was  a  highly  cultured  humanist,  who,  if  he  accepted 
without  misgiving  the  Calvinist  dogma,  justified  his  con- 
victions on  liberally  rational  lines.  He  loved  his  country  too 
well  to  quit  her  soil,  save  on  short  visits  to  England,  where 
he  sought  practical  and  active  aid  for  the  Huguenot  cause. 
The  political  basis  of  the  movement  appealed  to  him  as  power- 
fully as  the  religious  claim,  and  he  was  well  equipped  for  the 
vindication  of  both  the  theological  and  political  sides  of  the 
Huguenot  position.  He  had  at  command  an  easy  French  style 
and  a  fund  of  enlightened  argument.  The  highest  circles  of 
society  welcomed  him  to  England,  whither  he  came  for  the 
first  time  amid  the  crisis  of  St.  Bartholomew's  Day  with 
introductions  from  Sir  Francis  Walsingham,  the  English  ) 
ambassador  in  Paris.  '  II  fut  bien  receu  et  embrasse  de  toutes 
personnes  de  qualite  et  doctrine,'  wrote  his  accomplished  wife 
of  his  first  visit  to  England,  '  et  y  fit  des  amys  qui,  depuis  lors, 
luy  ont  servi  beaucoup  en  diverses  negociations.'  ^  Sir  Philip 
Sidney — '  le  plus   accomply    gentilhomme   d'Angleterre  '    in 

^  Mcinoires  de   Charlotte  de  Mornay,   Madame   Du    Plessis-Marly, 
edited  by  Madame  de  Witt  (Societe  de  I'Histoire  de  France),  1868-9,  i,  71. 


312        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 


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X^^^^ 


fe' 


Madame   de    Mornay's  phrase — soon    numbered  Du    Plessis 
among  his  closest  friends.     vSidney's  friend,  Sir  Fulke  Greville, 
^bore  testimony,  just  after  Sidney's  death,  to  '  the  respect  of 
love  between  Du  Plessis  and  him  besides  other  affinities  in 
their  courses '.     When  the  noble  Huguenot  and  his  wife  were 
sojourning  In  London  in  the  summer  of  157H,  a  daughter  was 
born  to  them.     Sir  Philip  Sidney  acted  as  a  godfather  and  gave 
the  infant  the  English  queen's  name  of  Ehzabeth.     It  was  Sid- 
ney's ambition  to  introduce  to  his  fellow  countrymen  in  their 
own  language  Du  Plessis 's  authoritative  and  animated  statement 
of  the  Huguenot  beliefs.   The  design  was  not  completed  at  the 
date  of  Sidney's  premature  death,  but  it  was  carried  out,  by 
way  of  tribute  to  his  memory,  by  two  near  friends  and  fellow 
workers.     They  succeeded  in  placing  at  the  disposal  of  the 
/  Elizabethan    public    admirable    English    renderings     ot    Du 
/  Plessis's  chief  endeavours  In  Protestant  theology.     His  main 
i    contribution   to   Calvlnist    apologetics,    De  la    verite   de   la 
\  religion  clLrefienne^  was  an  endeavour  to  justify  Christianity 
I    of  a  Calvlnist  type  on  philosophic  grounds  and  to  confute  the 
objections  of  all  manner  of  Infidels.     A  small  part  only  was 

L translated  by  Sidney.  Nearly  the  whole  came  In  1587  after 
his  death  from  the  pen  of  Arthur  Golding,  a  writer  not  un- 
known to  Elizabethan  students  in  other  departments  of  litera- 
ture ;  he  won  his  chief  fame  as  author  of  the  standard 
translation  of  Ovid's  Metamorphoses.  Sir  Philip's  sister,  the 
cultivated  Coiiniess-of-Pembrpke,  did  complementary  honour  to 
her  brother's  name  and  to  her  brother's  Huguenot  hero.  She 
devoted  herself  In  her  brother's  spirit  to  translating  into  Eng- 
/  Hsh  from  the  French  the  second  of  Du  Plessis's  memorable 
(  religious  treatises,  Excellent  Discours  De  La  Vie  et  De  La 
Mort.  It  Is  a  pathetic  meditation  on  the  mysteries  of  existence 
which  is  almost  worthy  of  Thomas  a  Kempls.  The  Countess's 
English  version  was  published  In  1600. 

Huguenots    ranked    Du    Plessis    by   virtue  of  his  literary 

1  accomplishments  along  with  Amyot,  the  Renaissance  master 
of  French  prose,  and  with  Ronsard,  the  Renaissance  master 
,of  French  poetry.  The  chief  poet  of  the  Huguenot  camp, 
Du  Bartas,  described  him  as  one — 


UU  PLESSIS'S  WORK  IN  ENGLISH  313 

qui  combat  rAtheismc, 
Le  Paganisme  vain,  Tobstine  Judaisme, 
Avec  leur  propre  glaive :  &  presse,  grave,  saint, 
Roidit  si  bien  son  style  ensemble  simple  et  peint, 
Que  les  vives  raisons  de  beaux  mots  empennces 
S'enfoncent  comme  traicts  dans  les  ames  bien-nees.^ 

These  praises  of  Du  Plessis  were  rendered  into  Elizabethan 
I'^nglish  thus : 

And  this  Du  Plessis,  beating  Atheism, 

Vain  Paganism,  and  stubborn  Judaism, 

With  their  own  arms  :    and  sacred-grave,  and  short, 

His  plain-pranked  style  he  strengthens  in  such  sort. 

That  his  quick  reasons  winged  with  grace  and  art. 

Pierce  like  keen  arrows,  every  gentle  heart.- 

Du  Plessis's  literary  piety  was  long  remembered  in  England. 
James  Howell  in  his  Instructions  for  Forrcine  Travcll 
reminded  the  English  tourist  that  the  '  pathetical  ejacula- 
tions and  heavenly  raptures  '  which  distinguished  Du  Plessis's 
devotional  treatises  well  fitted  them  for  Sunday  reading.  The 
authority  attaching  among  French  Protestants  to  all  Du  Plessis's 
arguments  and  opinions  won  him  the  sobriquet  of  '  The  j 
Pope  of  the  Huguenots  ', 


Huguenot  Pleas  for  Political  Liberty 

The  notion  that  personal  liberty  was  a  natural  heritage  of 
humanity  and  that  evil  rulers  might  be  justly  deposed  flitted 
vaguely  across  many  French  brains  before  the  Huguenot 
movement  was  fully  organized.  Classical  study  bred  sym- 
pathy with  the  theoretic  basis  of  republicanism,  and  there 
was  formed  a  conception  of  constitutional  monarchy  which 
owes  its  sanction  to,  and  is  guided  by,  the  people's  will. 
Machiavelli's  widely-disseminated  plea  in  behalf  of  absolutism 
roused  misgiving  in  many  French  minds,  when  the  sceptre 
fell  after  Francis  Ps  death   into   weak    and   unclean    hands, 

1  Du  Bartas,  La  Sci/iaine,  1615  ed.,  p.  2S5. 

2  Sylvester's  translation,  1613  cd.,  p.  332. 


314        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

and  the  persecution  of  opinion  became  a  normal  weapon 
of  sovereignty.  The  divine  right  of  kings  was  freely 
questioned.  As  early  as  1548  the  new  note  of  political 
liberalism  was  sounded  in  France  by  a  young  law  student  of 
Orleans,  Etienne  De  La  Boetie.  The  youth  wrote  an  eloquent 
dissertation  entitled  Discoiirs  de  la  Servitude  volontiere,  oil 
Conir'Un,  It  is  a  scholar's  denunciation  of  despotism  penned 
in  the  old  Roman  spirit.  The  work,  which  is  better  known 
by  its  shorter  alternative  name  of  Cojiir'Un,  long  circulated  in 
manuscript;  it  was  first  published  in  1576.  The  argument 
adumbrates  that  of  Shakespeare's  Pompey  in  Antony  and 
Cleopatra  (ll.  vi.   14-19): 

r-  What  was't 

'   That  mov'd  pale  Cassius  to  conspire  ?   and  what 
Made  the  all-honour'd,  honest  Roman,  Brutus, 
With  the  arm'd  rest,  courtiers  of  beauteous  freedom, 
To  drench  the  Capitol,  but  that  they  would 
f  Have  one  man  but  a  man  ? 

BuT  Contr'Un  is  an  isolated  effort,  and  was  somewhat  too 
academic  in  temper  to  generate  practical  attempts  at  revolution. 
The  author,  Etienne  De  La  Boetie,  who  was  a  Catholic, 
became  a  lawyer  and  a  poet,  but  died  prematurely  in  1563,  at 
^the  age  of  three-and-thirty.  He  is  chiefly  remembered  as  the 
close  friend  of  Montaigne's  youth,  and  as  the  inspirer  of 
Montaigne's  notable  essay  on  '  Friendship '. 

The  classical  conception  of  liberty  which  De  La  Boetie  first 
expounded  in  France,  appealed  to  Huguenot  sentiment,  and, 
becoming  a  watchword  among  them,  helped  them  in  due  time 
to  justify  their  resort  to  arms.^  The  personal  abuse  of  the 
Catholic  leaders,  which  found  free  vent  among  Huguenot 
pamphleteers  when  the  religious  dissensions  threatened  war, 
was  coloured  by  study  of  Roman  history  and  politics.  In  the 
impassioned  tract  called  Le  Tigre^  which  flamed  through 
France  in  1560,  and  denounced  with  fury  the  Cardinal  of 
Lorraine,  the  virtual  head  of  the  Guise  family,  the  writer 


'  A  useful  summary  of  Huguenot  opinion  is  given  lay  Mr.  E.  Armstrong 
in  The  Political  Theory  of  the  Huguenots  in  English  Historical  Review, 
vol.  iv  (18S9). 


/ 


ATTACKS  ON  THE  QUEEN-MOTHER        315 

clearly  emulated  Cicero's  denunciation  of  Catiline.^  There  is  \ 
litde  doubt  that  the  anonymous  author  of  this  lurid  piece  of 
invective  was  Francis  Hotman  (1524-90),  a  Hug^uenot  jurist 
who  succeeded  Cujas  as  professor  of  law  at  Bourges  and 
reached  the  highest  eminence  in  his  profession.  The  most 
accomplished  Huguenot  pens  eagerly  engaged  in  the  task  of 
denunciation, 

Hotman  was  soon  to  develop  the  theory  of  political  liberalism 
on  broadest  lines,  and  to  win  a  hearing  among  Elizabethan 
thinkers.  It  was  not  until  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew^ 
hurled  its  desperate  challenge  against  the  stalwart  minorityi 
that  the  Huguenot  party-leaders  openly  advocated  political; 
doctrines  of  revolution,  or  sought  to  carry  liberal  arguments 
to  all  their  logical  consequences.  The  king  who  misgoverned 
his  people  was  now  declared  in  no  veiled  terms  to  have  for- 
feited his  right  to  reign,  and  the  people  were  affirmed  to  be 
under  a  solemn  obligation  to  deprive  him  of  his  throne.  The 
matured  liberalism  of  the  Huguenots  sounded  many  keys. 
Invective  lost  nothing  of  its  initial  virulence.  But  the  calm- 
ness of  philosophic  inquiry  was  also  fostered  with  a  deadly 
earnestness,  while  irony,  of  a  Gallic  blitheness,  was  sometimes 
enlisted  in  the  cause  of  political  enlightenment. 

After  the  massacre,  Catherine  de'  Medici,  who  was  held  to  , 
be  chiefly  responsible  for  the  crime,  was  the  foremost  target  of 
Protestant  philippics.  No  quarter  was  allowed  her.  Every  | 
weapon  of  literary  abuse  was  reckoned  legitimate,  and  volleys 
of  undiluted  scurrility  w^ere  aimed  at  her.  The  Discoitrs  mer- 
veilleux  de  la  vie  ct  actions  et  deportemens  de  Catherine  de 
Media's  was  an  unsparing  exposure  of  what  was  alleged  to  be 
her  vSatanic  villany.  The  blow  clearly  came  from  a  trained 
hand,  but  the  authorship  is  uncertain.  The  Huguenot 
scholar,  Henri  l^tienne,  has  been  groundlessly  suspected, 
and  the  claim  of  Hotman  has  been  also  urged  on  doubtful 
grounds.  An  English-t^sion,  A  marvaylous  discourse  upon 
the  life,  deedes   and  behaviours  of  Katherine  de  Midicis, 

1  H.  AI.  15aird  in  The  Rise  of  the  Hugiiefiots  (1880),  i.  444-8,  gives  a 
full  summary  of  this  powerful  piece  of  invective. 


3i6        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

was  at  once  in  circulation/  and  the  Italian  queen-mother 
1  of  France  was  set  in  Elizabethan  calendars  of  infamy  beside 
\Messalina  or  Queen  Mary  Tudor. 

Whether  or  no  Hotman  be  responsible  for  the  biting 
Discoiirs  inerveille7tx^  his  pen  derived  a  new  impetus  from 
the  hateful  massacre,  which  all  but  claimed  him  as  a  victim 
at  Bourges,  and  drove  him  thence  for  safety  to  Geneva. 
Something  more  than  a  pamphleteering  sensation  was  now 
his  object.  He  designed  a  formidable  assault  on  the  funda- 
mental principles,  as  well  as  on  the  practices,  of  absolutism. 
He  reasoned  effectively  from  a  review  of  the  early  history  of 

(France.     His  Franco- Ga/h'a,  which  came  out  at  Geneva  in 
1573,  is  an  historical  plea — sound  in  design  if  at  times  fan- 
tastic  in    its   interpretation   of   events — for   the   recognition 
of  popular  right  and  for  the  establishment  of  constitutional 
checks  on  monarchy.     The  work  was  translated  from  Latin 
.   i*t  J  into    French,   under   the    title  of  La  France  Gauloise^  by 
f^t'^**^^^^       \  Simon  Goulart,  a  Huguenot  scholar  and  pastor  who  busied 
^  himself  with  theological  as  well  as  political  study,  and   be- 

came a  pillar  of  Calvinism  at  Geneva.  Hotman 's  work  was 
justly  regarded  as  a  new  development  of  historical  inquiry. 
Elizabethan  scholars  and  antiquarians  entered  into  corre- 
spondence with  him,  and  they  honoured  his  name. 

It  was  Hotman's  example  which  drew  into  the  arena  of 
political  debate  his  intimate  associate  Du  Plessis,  whose 
religious  writing  and  whose  friendship  with  Sir  Philip  Sidney 
awoke  among  Shakespeare's  contemporaries  a  widespread 
interest  in  his  personality.  Du  Plessis  made  his  political  decla- 
Iration  soon  after  Hotman's  serious  appeal,  in  a  Latin  treatise, 
f  Vindiciae  contra  Tyrannos^  which  seems  to  have  been  written 
I  in  1574,  although  it  was  not  published  till  1,579.  ^^  proved 
a  masterly  contribution  to  the  politico-historical  discussion 
which  Hotman  inaugurated.  Du  Plessis  stated  the  case 
against  despotism  with  characteristic  sobriety  and  modera- 
tion. He  neither  championed  republicanism  nor  tyran- 
nicide.     The   royal  title,    he   argued,    can   only   come  from 

'  Tlie  English  version  was  prudently  published  first  at  Heidelberg  in 
1575  and  was  reprinted  at  Cracow  in  1576. 


VINDICIAE   COX  TEA     TYRANNOS        317 

the  people's  sanction.  Kings  who  lay  waste  the  Church 
of  God,  who  worship  idolatrously,  who  defy  their  subjects' 
rights,  forfeit  their  crowns.  Deposition  of  the  sovereign 
in  such  circumstances  is  the  duty  which  the  people  owes 
to  itself.  But  the  people  can  only  act  through  organized 
representatives,  through  parliaments  or  councils  of  state. 
Private  persons  are  not  justified  in  taking  action  on  their  own 
account.  Though  Du  Plessis  spoke  respectfully  of  Brutus 
and  Cassius,  he  seems  to  have  held  in  abhorrence  anything 
like  assassination.  He  pleaded  with  dignity  for  popular 
liberties,  and  for  the  secure  adaptation  of  monarchy  to  the 
purposes  of  freedom. 

Du  Plessis's  manifesto  was  issued  under  the  suggestive 
pseudonym  of  Stephanus  Junius  Brutus.  Others  were  long 
suspected  of  the  authorship,  and  consequently  Du  Plessis's 
responsibility  for  it  was  imperfectly  recognized  in  his  own 
day.  The  Vindiciae  contra  Tyrannos  of  Stephanus  Junius 
Brutus  enjoyed  a  European  vogue.  It  circulated  outside 
France,  and  nowhere  more  freely  than  in  England  and 
Scotland.  The  title-page  of  the  first  edition  of  1579  gives  the 
city  of  Edinburgh  as  its  place  of  origin,  but  there  is  little 
doubt  that  thouo-h  intended  for  circulation  in  Scotland  it  was 
printed  at  Basle.  On  the  eve  of  the  Spanish  Armada — in  the 
early  summer  of  1588 — one  section  of  the  work  appeared  at 
London  in  an  English  translation.  It  bore  the  title,  '  A  short 
Apologie  for  Christian  Souldiours :  w^herein  is  contained  how 
that  we  ought  both  to  propagate  and  also  ...  to  defende  by 
force  of  amies,  the  Catholike  Church  of  Christ.'  In  this  section 
of  his  treatise  Du  Plessis  more  especially  declared  for  organized 
resistance  to  monarchs  who  ignored  the  true  principles  of 
Christianity.  His  '  Catholike  Church '  was,  of  course,  the 
church  of  the  reformed  dispensation.  The  monarch  whom 
the  English  translator  designed  to  hold  up  to  English  obloquy 
was  Philip  of  Spain. 

The  authority  of  Machiavelli,  the  foremost  advocate  of 
absolute  monarchy  in  Renaissance  Europe,  remained  the  chief 
obstacle  with  which  champions  of  constitutionalism  had  to 
contend.     Hotman  and  Du  Plessis  onlv  inferentiallv  sought 


si 


\ 


31 8        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

to  confute  Machiavellian  doctrine.  Other  Huguenots  challenged 
it  more  directly ;  they  denounced  //  Prmcipe  as  the  political 
Bible  of  the  hated  queen-mother.  The  most  famous  of  the 
challenges  of  Machiavelli's  creed  came  in  1576  from  the  pen  of 
another  Huguenot  lawyer,  Innocent  Gentillet,  and  his  powerful 
indictment  at  once  attracted  English  attention.  A  Cambridge 
student,  Simon  Patrick,  who  was  travelling  in  France,  soon 
turned  the  work  into  English  under  the  title,  '  A  discourse 
upon  the  meanes  of  wel-governing  and  maintaining  in  good 
peace,  a  kingdome,  or  other  principalitie  .  .  .  Against  Nicholas 
Machiavell  the  Florentine.'  ^ 

/  Gentillet  is  mainly  responsible  for  the  notion,  which  rooted 
1  itself  in  the  Elizabethan  mind,  that  the  great  Florentine  states- 
iman  was  an  embodiment  of  every  public  and  private  vice. 
Shakespeare's  contemporaries  knew  little  of  Machiavelli's 
exposition  of  his  political  creed  at  first  hand.  The 
text  of  The  Prince  only  circulated  among  them  in-£rench 
versions.  There  was  no  Elizabethan  translation.  The 
cult  of  Machiavellianism  was  invariably  reckoned  a  French 
gift  to  Tudor  England.  '  Satan,'  wrote  Gentillet's  translator, 
'  useth  strangers  of  France  as  his  fittest  instruments  to  infect 
us  still  with  this  deadly  poison  sent  out  of  Italy.'  But  by  way 
of  compensation  France  through  the  Huguenot  pen  of 
Gentillet  helped  to  supply    the  antidote.     It  was  Gentillet's 

*  Patrick's  translation,  though  written  in  1577,  was  not  published  till 
1602.  Another  edition  appeared  in.  1608.  No  English  translation  of 
//  Principe  came  out  before  1640.  For  Gentillet's  influence  on  Eliza- 
bethan literature  see  Edward  Meyer's  Madiiavelli  and  the  Elisabetlian 
Drama,  Weimar,  1897.  Marlowe,  who  makes  'Machiavel'  speak  the 
prologue  of  his  tragedy  of  The  Jew  of  Malta^  well  attests  English  indebted- 
ness to  France  for  the  popular  conception  of  Machiavellianism.  Marlowe's 
'  Machiavel'  exclaims : 

Albeit  the  world  think  Machiavel  is  dead, 

Yet  was  his  soul  but  flown  beyond  the  Alps  ; 

And,  now  the  Guise  is  dead,  is  come  from  France 

To  view  this  land,  and  frolic  with  his  friends  .  .  . 

I   [i.  e.  Machiavel]  count  religion  but  a  childish  toy, 

And  hold  there  is  no  sin  but  ignorance. 

Birds  of  the  air  will  tell  of  murders  past ! 

I  am  asham'd  to  hear  such  fooleries. 

Many  will  talk  of  title  to  a  crown : 

What  right  had  Caesar  to  the  Empery  ? 

Might  Hrst  made  kings,  and  laws  were  then  most  sure 

When,  like  the  Draco's,  they  were  writ  in  blood. 


THE  CATHOLIC  RETORT  319 

attempted  confutation  which  turned  Machlavelll's  name  among 
Elizabethan  poets  and  dramatists  Into  a  synonym  for  a  devil  In 
human  shape.  The  Enq^Hsh  people  loyally  accepted  almost 
every  vagary  of  Huguenot  argument  In  favour  of  political 
liberalism. 

Some  luigllshmen  of  vShakespeare's  day  intervened  in  the 
controversy   over  the   right  of  rebellion   with    an    Ingenious 
perversity  which   clouded   the  Issue.     The   cry   against   the 
divine   right   of  kings   was  not  confined  to  the   Huguenots 
at   the   end   of  the   sixteenth   century.      Devout    Catholics,  | 
w^hen    they   saw^    royal   powder   securely   held   by  Protestant  \ 
heretics   like  Queen    Elizabeth,    by   qualified   supporters  of| 
the  Papal  authority  like  Henry  III  of  P^rance,  or  by  Huguenots , 
of  the   temporizing  habit   of   mind   of  Henry  of   Navarre, 
criticized  the  monarchical  pretensions  no  less  eagerly  than  the 
Huguenots,  although  from  an  opposite  point  of  view^     Dui 
Plessis's  popular  theory  of  constitutional  government  and  of  the 
right  of  rebellion  was  easily  manipulated  by  astute  controver- 
sialists, so  as  to  serve  the  Catholic  Interest.     Montaigne  noted  | 
wath  characteristic  impartiality  how  a  general  plea,  which  justi-  / 
fied  civil  war  In  defence  of  religion,  was  capable  of  use  by  anyi 
dissentient  from  the  religious  views  of  a  reigning  sovereign, 
whether  the  monarch  be  Protestant  or  Catholic.     The  most 
daring  endeavour  to  apply  the  argument  of  resistance  to  a 
support  of  the  Catholic  cause  was  made  by  an  Englishman — 
a  convert  to  Catholicism,  one  William  Rainolds,  whose  brother, 
John  Rainolds,  was  a  well-known  figure  in  Oxford  society  as 
president  of  Corpus  Christi  College.     William  Rainolds  pub- 
lished at   Antwerp,   in    1592,   under   the   pseudonym   of  G. 
Gullelmus  Rossaeus,  a  tract  in  Latin  entitled.  Be  iusta  reipu- 
blicae  Chrisiianae  in  reges  impios  et  haereiicos  aiUhoritate} 
Here   the    tables    w^ere    mercilessly    turned     on    Protestant 
sovereigns  and  political  liberals.     Heretical  kings  and  queens, 
all  rulers  who  cherished  heterodoxy,  were  declared  to  be  fit 
objects   of  vengeance  on  the  part   of  orthodox  disaffection 
among  their  peoples. 

1  See   J.  N.  Figgis's  Studies   of  Political    Thought  from   Gerson   to 
Crotius,  pp.  159  seq. 


320        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

Such  bold  and  uncongenial  developments  of  the  plea  of 
political  liberalism  for  a  moment  confused  English  opinion, 
and  at  the  close  of  Elizabeth's  reign  national  feeling  in 
l-^ngland  was  thereby  excited  against  all  censure  of  monar- 
chical rights.  Loyal  sentiment  was  for  the  time  alienated 
from  advanced  jjolitical  theories  of  France.  The  theoretical 
attacks  on  absolutism  could  count  on  little  English  sympathy 
when  they  were  found  capable  of  employment  by  English 
Catholics  who  were  plotting  the  assassination  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth. To  James  I  the  liberalism  of  the  Huguenot  appeared 
to  be  too  ambiguous  to  be  tolerated.  A  stroke  of  irony 
condemned  Du  Plessis's  Viiidiciae  after  the  Scottish  king's 
accession  to  be  burned  at  Cambridge  as  seditious  heresy. 
The  king  had  no  hesitation  in  assigning  the  authorship  of 
the  Huguenot  manifesto  to  the  Jesuit  Parsons,  the  chief 
plotter  on  the  continent  against  the  English  crown. 

Elizabethan  Puritanism  was  indeed  slow  to  drift  into  that 
aggressive  propaganda  of  political  revolution  which  the 
Huguenot  doctrine  easily  ripened  in  France.  The  political 
pamphlets  of  Hotman,  Du  Plessis,  and  Gentillet  struck  a 
sympathetic  chord  in  the  Puritan  mind,  but  they  bred  in 
England  no  active  policy.  The  retort  in  kind  of  the  English 
champions  of  the  Catholic  reaction  awoke  suspicion  of  the 
soundness  of  liberal  argument.  But  under  the  Stuarts  the 
Huguenot  plea  for  popular  right  operated  with  practical 
effect.  The  process  of  assimilation  worked  somewhat  slug- 
gishly, but  the  Puritan  revolution  of  seventeenth-century 
England  owed  much  of  its  intellectual  stimulus  to  the 
Huguenot  assertion  of  political  liberalism. 

Political  thought  was  active  in  France  in  other  than  pro- 
fessedly Huguenot  circles,  and  bore  outside  their  limits 
lasting  philosophic  fruit.  At  the  very  moment  when  Du 
Plessis  and  Hotman  were,  with  an  eye  on  passing  events, 
seeking  to  justify  Huguenot  liberalism,  a  French  professor 
of  law,  who  was  a  stranger  to  the  Huguenot  camp,  was 
surveying  political  problems  with  far  greater  thorough- 
ness and  detachment  of  mind.  The  religious  opinions  of 
Jean   Bodin  are  undetermined.      He  has  been  credited  with 


BODIN'S  SCIKNCI^.  OF  POLITICS  321 

affinity  with  every  relig-ious  creed,  Jewish  and  Mohammedan 
as  well  as  Protestant  and  Catholic.  But  his  writings  give  little 
clue  to  his  private  convictions.  His  liberality  of  view  links 
him  with  the  advanced  guard  of  the  Huguenots,  though  he  was 
free  of  any  doctrinal  prejudice,  and  cherished  fewer  personal 
animosities.  Ro^ixL  made  the  ambitious  attempt  to  trace  the 
origin  and  growth  of  Government  in  civilized  states,  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  sociologist  rather  than  of  the  politician.  Far 
more  dispassionate  and  exhaustive  than  any  of  the  Huguenot 
theorists  In  his  treatment  of  political  phenomena,  he  deduces 
monarchical  rule  from  an  implied  primordial  contract  between^ 
sovereign  and  people.  Monarchy  In  a  limited  form  he  regards 
as  superior  to  republicanism,  but  in  the  Internal  regulation  of 
states  he  asserts  the  need,  above  all  else,  of  principles 
of  toleration.  History  meant  even  more  to  BodIn  than  to 
Hotman,  and  he  gave  Its  teaching  a  wider  scope.  For  the 
first  time  among  modern  European  writers  he  assigned 
political  phenomena  and  developments  to  climatic  influences, 
a  fruitful  theory  which  Montesquieu  restated  and  elaborated,  j 
BodIn  s  chief  work,  De  la  RepiMiqiLe  ('  Concerning  the 
State'),  which  appeared  In  1 576,  was  written  In  French,  and  was 
soon  familiar  In  England.  There  it  was  read  for  some  years 
in  a  Latin  translation  of  local  authorship.  Ultimately  It  was 
translated  Into  English  (In  1606)  by  Richard  Knolles,  the 
Elizabethan  historian  of  the  Turks,  who  claimed  that  Bodln's 
political  philosophy  was  to  be  '  preferred  before  any  of  them 
that  have  as  yet  taken  so  great  an  argument  upon  them'. 
Bodln's  work  w^as  long  a  text-book  for  English  students  alike 
In  Its  French,  Latin,  and  EngHsh  dress,  and  It  guided  the 
study  of  political  theory  for  many  a  term  In  Cambridge  Univer- 
sity, as  well  as  in  the  English  realm  of  thought  outside.^    It  can 

1  Gabriel  Harvey,  the  Cambridge  tutor,  who  carefully  observed  current 
academic  feeling,  wrote  about  1579  of  the  general  interest  excited  among 
Cambridge  students  by  the  political  speculation  of  Bodin,  and  by  French 
comment  upon  Aristotle's  Politics :  '  You  can  not  stepp  into  a  schollars 
studye  but  (ten  to  one)  you  shall  likely  tinde  open  ether  Bodin  de 
Republica  or  Le  Royes  Exposition  uppon  Aristolles  Politiques  or  sum 
other  like  French  or  Italian  Politique  Discourses.'  {Letterbool;  of  Gabriel 
Han<ey,  Camden  Soc,  1884,  p.  79-)  Harvey  made  the  personal  acquaint- 
ance of  Bodin,  when  the  latter  visited  the  University  of  Cambridge  m  1579. 
Bodin,  according  to  the  Cambridge  scholar's  own  account,  likened  him  to 

I.F.E  1 


322        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 


/it 


hardly  l)e  (juestioned  tliat  Hooker  derived  from  Bodin  the 
/  doctrine  of  contractual  sovereignty  which  was  developed  by 
I  Hobbes  from  the  same  source,  and  was  afterwards  admitted 
\o  the  political  creed  of  the  English  Whigs. 

But  there  were  points  in  Bodin's  argument  which  offended 
English  sentiment  and  exposed  it  to  frequent  censure.  His 
incidental  warning  against  feminine  monarchy  caught  the  eye 
of  many  an  Elizabethan,  and  was  warmly  contested  by 
Elizabethan  controversialists.  The  Frenchman's  somewhat 
obscurantist  advocacy  of  demonology  and  witchcraft  also 
roused  much  hostility  against  him.  In  a  second  book  entitled 
Deuiononianie  des  Sorciers  (1580)  he  fathered  every  super- 
stitious fancy  which  science  scouted.  His  conservatism  on 
this  topic  left  a  curious  impression  on  EHzabethan  literature, 
gave  the  cue  to  that  fascinating  piece  of  Elizabethan 
f ..  rationalism,  Reginald  Scot's  Discoverie  of  Witchcraft  (1584^ 
The  evidence  is  complete  that  Bodin  was  recognized  as 
a  thinker  of  authority  by  the  subjects  of  Queen  Elizabeth, 
and  as  one  to  be  treated  seriously  both  by  those  who  accepted 
and  by  those  who  challenged  his  views. 

Bodin's  uiagnuni  opus  stimulated  speculative  inquiry 
into  all  the  conditions  of  social  well-being.  Among  its 
many  fruits  in  the  seventeenth  century  must  be  numbered 
the  science  of  political  economy.  That  term  was  the 
invention  of  a  Frenchman  who  may  be  reckoned  an  early 
disciple  of  the  chief  political  philosopher  of  the  French 
Renaissance.  About  the  date  of  the  publication  of  Bodin's 
treatise,  De  la  Republiqzie^  in  1576,  there  was  born  to  an 
apothecary  at  Falaise  in  Normandy  a  son  Antoine  de  Mont- 
chretlen,  who  adhered  through  great  part  of  a  short  life"  to 
the  community  of  the  Huguenots.  At  a  precociously  youthful 
\  age  he  devoted  himself  to  the  drama,  but  a  turbulent  dis- 
position drove  him  in  his  adolescence  to  England  and  Holland. 
There,  turning  from  literary  study,  he  closely  observed  the 

Homer.  Harvey's  enemy,  Tom  Nashe,  states  that  Harvey  addressed 
a  highly  complimentary  letter  to  Bodin  which  drew  from  the  Frenchman 
an  'answer  in  the  like  nature'  which  was  hardly  intended  to  be  taken 
seriously  (Gabriel  Harvey's  Works,  ed.  Grosart,  i.  252,  ii.  23,  24,  Zj^  ; 
Nashe's  Works,  ed.  McKerrow,  iii.  116;  iv.  360). 


'L'CECONOMIl^:    POLITIQUF/  :,2^ 

progress  of  commerce,  and  on  settling  anew  in  I'Vance  he 
sought  to  define  the  principles  of  mercantile  prosperity.  His 
results  were  embodied  in  a  work  which  he  entitled  Le  Traicte 
dc  rO^conojnie  PolHique  (1615),  None  had  combined  the 
noun  and  epithet  before.  Thus  the  French  writer  brought 
into  being  a  new  branch  of  knowledge,  which  had  for  its  aim 
the  discussion  of  '  la  mesnagerie  des  necessites  et  charges 
publiques '.  Montchretien  reached  the  conclusion  that  the 
happiness  of  man  chiefly  depended  on  wealth,  and  that  wealth 
depended  on  labour.  Well-being  came  partly  from  discipline 
or  organization,  partly  from  art  or  invention,  and  in  any  case 
life  and  labour  were  inseparably  united.  Montchretien's  argu- 
ment may  seem  elementary  from  a  modern  point  of  view ; 
but  it  was  the  work  of  a  pioneer  to  whose  ingenuity  the  future 
existence  of  economic  science  stood  conspicuously  indebted. 

Nearly  a  century  passed  before  news  of  Montchretien's  dis-  \ 
covery  of  '  CEConomie  politique'  reached  England,  where  the  I 
study  was  destined  ultimately  to  reach  its  fullest  development.  | 


VI 

Pierre  de  la  Ramee 

No  branch  of  knowledge  escaped  the  active  mind  of  the 
Huguenot,  and  from  ardent  champions  of  the  faith  came 
a  thinker  who  questioned  tradition  in  almost  every  branch 
of  knowledge,  and  sought  to  establish  logic,  ethics,  and 
philosophy  on  new  foundations.  His  versatility  marks  him 
out  as  a  true  son  of  the  Renaissance.  The  war  which  he 
declared  in  boyhood  on  the  intellectual  darkness  of  Rome 
he  pursued  to  the  end.  In  Elizabethan  England  his  emi- 
nence as  an  intellectual  force  went  unquestioned  for  two 
generations,  and  at  Cambridge  he  was  acknowledged  to  be 
the  only  modern  authority  on  logic,  then  the  chief  item  in 
the  academic  curriculum. 

Pierre  de  la  Ramee— Petrus  Ramus — the  son  of  poor  peasants 
of  Picardy,  was  born  in  151 5,  six  years  after  Calvin  and  nine 
years  before  Ronsard.     Brought  up  in  penury,  he  was  gifted 

Y  2 


324        THE  MESSAGE  OE  THI^:  HUGUENOTS 


^}4jisr- 


'A> 


from  infancy  with  a  passion  for  reading-,  and  he  attained  a 
great  position  in  the  realms  of  thought  by  his  bold  origin- 
ality and  intellectual  versatility.  He  was  credited  by  an 
impartial  critic  of  the  century  with  '  a  universal  mind  ',  His 
fame  was  made  in  i_^6,  while  he  was  a  student  at  Paris 
University,  by  a  thesis  in  which  he  professed  to  establish  that 
I  Aristotle's  views  and  conclusions  on  every  topic  were  wrong. 
Aristotle  had  come  to  be  treated  by  orthodox  Catholic 
churchmen  as  one  of  themselves.  By  a  confusion  of  thought, 
which  is  rather  difficult  to  explain,  Aristotelian  philosophy 
enjoyed  ecclesiastical  sanction,  Ramus's  challenge  of  Aristotle  s 
authority  consequently  exposed  him  to  the  suspicion  of  scepti- 
cism. In  1543  he  published  the  treatise  on  logic  {Iiistitutiones 
Dialccticae)  which  obtained  worldwide  repute.  There  he 
aimed  an  almost  fatal  blow  at  the  scholastic  method  of  the 
syllogism.  He  sought  to  convert  logic,  not  perhaps  with  entire 
success,  into  an  instrument  of  lucid  thought.  The  Sorbonne 
retorted  by  causing  his  book  for  the  time  to  be  suppressed. 
But  in  spite  of  persecution  Ramus  adhered  to  the  road  on  which 
he  had  set  his  foot.  Although  he  avowed  himself  a  Protestant, 
his  gifts  as  a  teacher  secured  for  him  even  from  those  w^ho 
disliked  his  views  educational  posts  of  dignity  and  emolu- 
ment. He  became  president  of  the  College  de  Presles  in 
Paris  and  reglus  professor  of  rhetoric  and  philosophy  at  the 
College  de  France.  But  his  colleagues,  who  resented  his 
intellectual  energy,  made  his  life  burdensome,  and  during  the 
Civil  wars  he  was  expelled  from  all  his  offices.  After  a  tour 
through  the  German  universities,  where  he  was  received  with 
royal  honours,  he  dechned  invitations  to  settle  abroad  and 
faced  the  risk  of  a  retired  life  of  study  in  his  beloved  Paris. 

It  was  not  only  as  a  logician  that  Ramus  proved  his  origin- 
ality of  mind.  Scarcely  any  subject  of  study  failed  to  benefit 
by  his  alertness  and  industry.  He  devised  a  mode  of  phonetic 
jspelling,  while  his  writings  on  grammar  quickly  acquired  a 
puropean  vogue.  His  grammars,  which  became  European 
text-books,  dealt  with  the  French,  Greek,  and  Latin  languages, 
and  aimed  at  simplifying  the  rules  and  reducing  their  number. 
It  was  indeed  as  a  grammarian  no  less  than  as  a  logician  that 


RAMUS'S  'UNIVERSAL  MIND'  325 

the  learned  world  acktiowledued  his  pre-eminence.  With 
characteristic  versatility  he  also  interested  himself  in  mathe- 
matics and  theology.  He  wrote  a  useful  book  on  geometry, 
and  greatly  improved  the  place  of  mathematics  in  the  educa- 
tional curriculum.  In  theology  he  was  a  rationalizing  Hugue- 
not. He  defined  theology  as  doctriua  bene  Vivendi  and  laid 
great  stress  on  the  Bible  as  the  foundation  of  religion. 
One  of  his  plans  was  a  new  translation  of  the  whole  Bible 
into  French  from  the  original  languages.  His  religious  aim 
was  to  restore  Christianity  to  its  primitive  simplicity,  and  he 
condemned  the  refinements  of  Calvin's  doctrine  no  less  than 
the  dogmatic  pretensions  of  Rome.  To  the  despotic  power 
vested  in  the  synod  of  the  Protestant  organization  he  raised 
objection  on  the  ground  that  it  menaced  individual  liberty. 
In  the  days  of  Ramus 's  misfortunes,  Beza  consequently  dis- 
couraged him  from  seeking  an  asylum  at  Geneva. 

There  was  indeed  no  direction  of  intellectual  endeavour  in 
which  Ramus  failed  to  show^  lively  and  practical  interest.  He 
sketched  out  an  elaborate  scheme  of  university  reform  at 
Paris  in  which  he  recommended  the  abolition  of  clerical 
qualifications  for  college  offices,  and  the  application  of  many 
cathedral  endowments  to  the  gratuitous  education  of  poor 
scholars.  It  was  a  scandalous  thing,  he  wrote,  that  the 
road  to  knowledge  should  be  closed  and  barred  against 
poverty.  He  had  as  a  poor  boy  burned  with  eager  desire 
of  knowledge  and  always  recalled  with  frankness  his  early 
struggles.  By  his  will  he  founded  with  his  scanty  savings 
a  mathematical  lectureship  at  the  College  de  France  at  Paris. 
The  post  was  filled  by  men  of  distinction  In  later  years,  and 
greatly  benefited  mathematical  study.^ 

Learning  has  to  reckon  Ramus  among  its  leading  martyrs. 
Superstition  and  Intolerance  prepared  for  him  a  violent  end. 
Unhappily  he  was  in  Paris  during  the  St.  Bartholomew's  mas- 
sacre. His  foes  suffered  him  to  lodge  In  the  College  de 
Presles,  long  after  he  had  been  deprived  of  professorial  func- 

'  The  chief  authority  is  lui/niis  {Pierre  de  la  Ramce) :  sa  vie,  ses  ecrits 
et  ses  ofiiniofis,  par  C.  Waddington,  Paris,  18S5.  See  also  John  Owen's 
The  Skeptics  of  the  French  Kenaissatice,  1893,  pp.  493  seq. 


326        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

tions.  On  the  third  clay  of  the  massacre,  August  26,  1572, 
assassins,  hired  by  '  the  blockish  vSorbonnists ',  burst  into  his 
study  in  the  Colleg-e  and  slew  him  with  hateful  barbarities. 
He  was  shot,  stabbed,  flung  out  of  the  window  five  stories 
high ;  then  his  lifeless  body  tied  with  cords  was  dragged 
through  the  streets  and  flung  into  the  river  Seine.  There  is 
no  more  ghastly  episode  in  the  records  of  fanaticism  than 
Ramus's  murder.  The  brutal  outrage  was  represented  on  the 
I  Elizabethan  stage  in  one  of  the  crude  scenes  of  Marlowe's 
i  Massacre  at  Paris}  Ramus's  courage  and  noble  temper 
from  beginning  to  end  of  his  chequered  career  may  be 
gauged  by  one  of  the  latest  sentences  from  his  pen :  '  Je 
supporte  (he  wrote  amid  his  distresses)  sans  peine  et  meme 
avec  joie  ces  orages,  quand  je  contemple  dans  un  palsible 
avenir  sous  I'influence  d'une  philosophic  plus  humaine  les 
hommes  devenus  mellleurs,  plus  polls  et  plus  eclalres.' 
Ramus  might  have  said  with  Heine :  '  I  know  not  If  I  de- 
serve that  a  laurel  wreath  should  be  laid  on  my  tomb  .  .  . 
But  lay  on  my  coffin  a  sword  ;  for  I  was  a  brave  soldier  in  the 
liberation  war  of  humanity.' 

Ramus,  although  his  writings  became  themes  of  fierce  con- 
troversy, exerted  a  vast  influence  on  Elizabethan  thought. 
His  Greek  grammar  and  his  elements  of  geometry  were  in 
general  use  in  Elizabethan  schools  and  colleges,  and  an 
English  rendering  of  his  manual  of  logic  was  Issued  In  London 
within  two  years  of  his  death.  Roger  Aschamvalued  Ramus 
as  a  great  educational  reformer,  and  corresponded  with  him 
on  educational  methods.  Gabriel  Harvey,  the  Cambridge  tutor 
of  Edmund  Spenser,  boasted  of  his  worship  of  Ramus's  genius. 

'  Act  I,  Sc.VIII  : 

Enter  Ramus  in  his  study. 

Ra»iHs.     What  fearful  cries  come  from  the  river  Seine 
That  fright  poor  Ramus  sitting  at  his  book  !  .  .  . 

Entc?-  Guise.  Anjou,  and  tJie  rest. 

Guise.     Was  it  not  thou  that  scoff'dst  the  Organon 
And  said  it  was  a  heap  of  vanities  ?  .  .  . 

Rannis.     I  knew  the  Organon  to  be  confused 
And  I  reduced  it  into  better  form  .  .  . 

Guise.     Why  suffer  you  that  peasant  to  dechiim  ?  .  .  . 

Anjou.     Ne'er  was  there  colUer's  son  so  full  of  pride.       [Stabs  him. 


ELIZABETHAN  RAMISTS  327 

In  the  University  of  Cambridge,  which  was  then  far  more 
sensitive  to  new  ideas  than  Oxford,  Ramus 's  system  of  logic 
ancT  philosophy  dethroned  Aristotelianism.  His  philoso- 
phical treatises  became  the  authorized  academic  text-books 
at  Cambridge  as  at  almost  all  the  universities  of  Europe 
sa\e  Oxford.  When  a  press  was  for  the  first  time  perma- 
nently established  at  Cambridge  in  1584,  the  first  book 
to  be  printed  was  an  annotated  edition  of  Ramus's  Dialectica 
in  the  original  Latin.  The  editor  was  William  Temple,  a 
young  fellow  of  King's  College.  The  volume  was  dj^di-- 
cated  to  Sir  Philip  Sidney.  With  characteristic  enthusiasm 
for  Huguenot  theory  and  practice  Sidney  had  already 
declared  himself  a  Ramist,  and  now  proved  his  faith  in 
Ramism  by  inviting  the  French  philosopher's  English 
editor  to  become  his  private  secretary.  Subsequently  young 
Temple  became  an  early  provost  of  Trinity  College,  Dublin, 
and  spread  in  Ireland  his  enthusiasm  for  the  new  Hugue- 
not logic.  But  Ramus's  philosophical  and  logical  theories 
were  closely  studied  by  greater  English  thinkers  than  Sir 
Philip  Sidney  or  his  secretary.  Ramus's  work  was  familiar 
to  Bacon  from  his  Cambridge  days.  None  can  doubt,  al- 
though the  point  Is  often  overlooked  or  minimized,  the 
suggestive  Impetus  given  by  Ramus  to  Bacon's  exposition  of 
the  defects  ofjVristotelian  logic.  Bacon's  speculative  origin- 
ality engendered  doubts  of  Ramus's  efficiency  at  many  points, 
but  Bacon  admits  that  the  Frenchman's  intention  was  excel- 
lent.^ Hooker,  who  resented  Ramus's  religious  scepticism, 
deemed  his  services  to  philosophy  overrated,  but  at  the  end 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  the  Puritan  writers  proclaimed  their 
faith  in  him  both  as  logician  and  educational  reformer.^ 

It  Is  worth  adding  that  among  other  Englishmen  whose  minds 

^  Cf.  Bacon's  Valerius  Terminus  in  Spedding's  edition  of  Works,  iii. 
203-5,  "i'^*^  '""'s  De  Augine}itis,  Hk,  iv.  453. 

^  A  long  story  is  told  by  Samuel  Clark  in  his  Lives  of  Thirty-two 
Divines,  1677,  p.  235,  of  how  the  well-known  Puritan  writer  William 
Gouge,  when  an  undergraduate  of  King's  College,  Cambridge,  at  the  first 
entrance  into  his  studies,  in  1595,  'applied  himself  to  Peter  Ramus,  his 
Logick,  and  grew  so  expert  therein '  that  he  was  able  to  defend  him  in 
public  argument  from  all  assault.  Clark  names  Richard  Mather,  the 
famous  New  England  Puritan,  as  an  ardent  worshipper  of  Ramus. 


328        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

were  fascinated  by  Ramus's  liberal  temper  was  Richard  Hak- 
luyt,  the  Elizabethan  apostle  of  American  colonization,  who  was 
long  chaplain  at  the  English  Embassy  at  Paris.  Hakluyt  was 
then  first  urging  on  his  countrymen  the  need  of  a  more 
scientific  study  of  navigation  and  mathematics  in  order  to 
enable  Englishmen  the  better  to  compete  with  French  and 
.Spaniards  in  the  exploration  and  colonization  of  the  new 
world  of  America.  His  argument  sought  sustenance  in  the 
example  of  Ramus.  In  the  interest  of  his  cause  he  implored 
vSir  Francis  Walsingham,  the  Secretary  of  .State,  to  found  two 
public  lectureships — one  in  mathematics  at  Oxford  and  the 
other  in  the  art  of  navigation  in  London.  Hakluyt  suggested 
as  a  model  for  the  endowment  the  mathematical  lectureship  at 
Paris,  which  was  founded  by  '  the  worthy  scholar,  Petrus 
Ramus  .  .  .  one  of  the  most  famous  clerks  of  Europe  '.^ 


VII 

Huguenot  Poetry— Aubigne 

The  Huguenot  thinkers  covered  a  wide  range  of  philosophy 
and  theology.  Their  ordinary'  weapon  was  French  prose, 
which  they  wielded  with  vigour  and  lucidit}'.  To  many 
Huguenot  philosophers  besides  Du  Plessis  might  be  applied 
Du  Bartas's  description  of  that  writer's  leading  characteristics 
— '  Vives  raisons,  de  beaux  mots  empennees  '. 

Ethical,  political,  theological  topics  engaged  the  pens  of 
Huguenot  writers  in  prose.  The  influence  of  the  Huguenot 
philosophy  on  English  thought  chiefly  worked  through  the 
direct   process  of  literal  translation.     But  there  was  at  the 

^  Hakluyt's  letter  to  Walsingham,  dated  April  i,  1584,  which  is  in  the 
Public  Record  Office,  is  printed  with  a  focsimile  in  Hakluyt's  A\i7'/jfa//o?is, 
1905  ed.,  vol.  xii,  pp.  vii-x.  Hakluyt  says  he  encloses  a  printed  copy  of 
Ramus's  will,  which  shows  how  '  the  exceeding  zeale  that  man  had  to 
benefit  his  country  '  led  him  to  bestow  '  500  livres '  on  his  lectureship,  a  sum 
more  than  twice  as  great  as  the  rest  of  his  estate  which  he  divided  among 
his  kindred  and  friends. 


AUBIGNK'S  TRAINING  329 

same  time  a  mass  of  Huguenot  poetry  of  more  general 
scope  which  excited  sympathy  and  attention  on  the  part  of 
Ehzabethan  readers.  There  was  much  adaptation  of  Hugue- 
not poetry  as  well  as  translation  at  English  hands. 

Huguenot  poetry  is  a  scion  of  the  true  Renaissance  stock. 
Ronsard    was    its   acknowledged    master,    and    many  of  its 
peculiarities  of  style  were  learned  in  the  school  of  the  Pleiade. 
Hut  the  Huguenot  poet  gave  a  new  turn  to  the  main  principles 
of  the   Ronsardian   system.     Ronsard   and  his  brotherhood 
endeavoured   to   breathe  the  classical  form   and   spirit   into 
vernacular  poetry.    The  Huguenot  poets,  while  they  respected  \ 
Ronsard's  classical  form,  sought  to  imbue  it  with  the  spirit   / 
of  the    Bible.    The   Huguenot   poets  sought  to  spiritualize  / 
the   classical  temper  of  poetry,  to  make  classical  metre  and 
phrase    handmaids  of  Protestant   piety.     The  effort  was  an  J 
innovation  in  modern  European  literature. 

Two  men  are   chiefly  identified  with  this  Huguenot  en- 
deavour,   Theodore    Agrippa    d'Aubigne   (1550- 1630)    and  f 
Guillaume  de  Salluste,  Seigneur  du  Bartas  (1544-90).     Both,  I 
like  Montaigne,  belonged  to  the  lesser  gentry  of  Gascony, 
both    were 'Classical    scholars,   and    both    fought    valiantly] 
in  the  Huguenot  army. 

Of  the  two,  Aubigne  must  be  credited  with  the  larger 
measure  of  poetic  genius.  His  literary  range  was  excep- 
tionally wide,  and  his  work  is  memorable  in  prose  as  well  as 
in  poetry.  In  lyric  and  epic,  in  satire  and  fable,  in  memoir 
and  history,  he  gave  signal  proof  of  an  impetuous  strength  and 
fire.  From  childhood  Aubigne  served  the  two  causes  of  the 
classical  Renaissance  and  of  the  religious  Reformation.  His 
father  made  him  when  a  boy  swear  that  he  would  avenge  the 
martyrdoms  of  his  Huguenot  co-rehgionists,  and  he  was  faith- 
ful throughout  his  long  career  to  the  oath  of  his  youth.  At  the 
same  time  he  imbibed  almost  in  his  cradle  the  culture  of  the 
Renaissance,  translating  Plato's  Cri'/o  from  the  Greek  before  '\^ 
he  was  eight.  When  he  was  of  age  he  served  in  the 
Huguenot  army,  and  came  into  close  personal  relations  with 
the  Huguenot  leader,  Henry  of  Navarre.  His  adolescence 
was  spent  in  camps  and  in  hairbreadth  escapes  from  death 


330        THE  iMESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

in  war.  The  story  of  his  military  Hfe  reads  like  a  chivalric 
romance.  Yet  in  middle  age,  Aubigne  was  no  less  respected 
in  the  council  chamber  than  on  the  field  of  battle.  He 
became  a  diplomatist  as  well  as  a  warrior,  but  he  remained  the 
while  a  sturdy  fanatic.  His  leisure  was  devoted  to  theology, 
history,  and  poetry,  which  came  to  acquire  the  defiant  note  of 
his  soldiership. 

Compromise  of  principle  was  impossible  for  him,  and  the 

middle  party  of  '  Les  Politiques ',  which  brought  about  the 

I   religious  peace  at  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century,  moved 

I    Aubigne's  scorn.    He  likened  the  '  third  party  '  to  Purgatory, 

\  which  hes  between  Heaven  and  Hell.     Loyal  to  his  faith  to 

the  end,  he  long  survived  the  cruel  grief  of  the  conversion  of 

his  old  master,  Henry  IV,  which  he  never  ceased  to  deplore. 

He  grieved  over  the  perversities  of  public  life  far  away  from 

the  court.     His  old  age  was  spent  in  Geneva,  where  he  died 

in  1 630,  at  the  age  of  eighty. 

Aubigne  was  born  in  1 550,  a  year  after  the  new  era  of  Renais- 
sance poetry  opened  in  France.  The  poetry  of  his  early  days, 
which  was  collected  under  the  general  title  Le  Prmienips, 
closely  pursues  the  new  tradition  of  the  Pleiade  school.  He 
wrote  sonnets  In  honour  oFa  mistress  whom  he  called  by  the 
common  title  of  Diane,  in  a  style  which  has  the  merits  and 
defects  of  Ronsard's  disciple,  Desportes.  To  the  memory 
of  the  member  of  the  Pleiade  group  who  was  not  merely 
the  most  heterodox,  but  also  the  most  hostile  to  the 
I  Huguenots,  Etienne  Jodelle,  Aubigne  a  little  paradoxically 
\  addressed  a  poetic  tribute  of  sympathy.  His  lighter  verse 
is  more  notable  for  its  vigour  than  its  grace ;  his  imagery 
constantly  reflects  his  military  temper.  None  the  less  his 
'  literary  sentiment  at  the  outset  betrays  close  affinity  with 
the  Renaissance.  A  change  came  later.  Under  the  stress  of 
religious  warfare  his  poetry  acquired  in  his  maturity  a 
passionate  rancour  and  a  self-assurance  which  almost  place  it 
in  a  category  of  its  own.  His  Les  Tragiqiies,  the  poetic 
work  which  gives  him  his  fame,  was  begun  when  he  was 
stricken  down  by  wounds  in  1577,  and  was  continued  at  inter- 
vals for  thirty  years,  but  it  was  not  published  for  yet  another 


LES  TRAGIQUES  331 

ten    years, — until   1617.     Les   Tragiques  is  a  Covenanter's 

prolonged   dirge    over  the    sufferings   of  the   faithful.     His 
verses,  he  declares, 

Ne  sont  rien  que  de  meurtre  et  de  sang  etoffes.        I 

To  the  sweet   delights   of  love  and  joy,    his   muse   bids 
a  stern  farewell : 

Ce  siecle,  autre  en  ses  moeurs,  demande  un  autre  style, 
Cueillons  des  fruits  amers  desquels  il  est  fertile.' 

In  seven  books,  respectively  entitled  Miseres,  Princes^  La 
Chanibre  Doree,  Les  Fetix,  Lcs  Fej^s,  J  'engeancesjtigement^ 
he  reviews  the  griefs  of  the  age,  the  dissoluteness  of  the  court, 
the  cowardice  of  the  Parlement,  the  tortures  of  the  stake,  the 
massacres   of  the   sword,  the  vengeance  of  heaven   on    the 
persecutors  of  God's  saints,  and  the  final  judgement  passed  by 
Almighty  God  on  the  sinners  in  authority.     Traces  of  the! 
author's  classical  training  are  not  obliterated  by  his  piety,  ^ 
but  there  is  little  coherence  in  the  mingling  of  Greek  mytho- 
logy, moral   allegory,  and  Scriptural  theology.     There  are 
crudities  and  incongruities  in  the  linking  of  sarcasms  in  the 
style  of  Juvenal  or  Horace,   with   reminiscences  of  Hebrew/ 
prophecy    and   of  the   Apocalypse.     The   tone  varies  from' 
wrathful    invective    to    calm    trust   in    the  divine    will.     The 
stream  of  inspiration  often  runs  turbidly.     Yet  many  passages 
reflect  the  sombre  gravity  of  Dante  and  adumbrate  the  majesty 
of  Milton.    J\L  Faguet  averred  that  the  lyrical  note  of  execra- 
tion in  Aubigne's  Les  Tragiqiies  was  an  original  experiment 
which  has  been  only  once  attempted  again  with  any  success — 
in  the  well-known  Les  Chdiiinenis  of  \^ictor  Hugo. 

Aubigne's  prose  work  is  less  notable  than  his  poetry. 
His  Histoire  Universelle  and  his  Memoires  abound  in  curious 
details  of  his  experience.  The  narrative  never  fails  in  nervous 
energy  nor  blunt  sincerity.  His  descriptive  power  and 
insight  into  character  are  at  times  penetrating  enough  to  recall 
the  vivid  pencil  of  St.  Simon.  But  his  record  of  personal 
reminiscence  too  often  fails  in  the  equability  which  is  essential 
to  artistic  balance.    Two  ironical  tracts.  La  Confession  Catho- 

'  Aubigne,  Les  Tragtques,  ed.  LaLinne,  1857,  p.  77. 


332        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

liqtie  dii  sieur  de  Sancy  and  Les  A  ventures  du  bai^on  de 
FcBueste,  are  romances  in  the  style  of  Rabelais ;  they  deal 
shrewd  blows  at  Catholic  pretensions. 

Much  of  Aubigne's  literary  work  was  penned  in  the  six- 
teenth century,  but  until  the  death  of  Henry  I\^  it  circulated 
exclusively  in  manuscript.  Little  of  it  was  published  until  after 
the  king's  death.  Consequently  Aubigne  enjoyed  a  restricted 
reputation  as  a  man  of  letters  among  his  own  countrymen 
during  the  early  or  middle  periods  of  his  long  career.  The 
eagerness  with  which  Elizabethan  writers  studied  printed 
Huguenot  literature  and  poetry  of  inferior  temper  suggests 
how  great  would  have  been  their  debt  to  Aubigne  had  he 
proved  less  shy  of  publicity. 

Such  literary  influence  as  he  exerted  on  England  belongs 
to  the  epoch  of  the  Stuarts  rather  than  to  that  of  the  Tudors. 
/  Early  in  the  seventeenth  century  his  energy  and  faculty  as 
'  an  historian  were  acknowledged  by  James  Howell.  One 
curious  proof,  too,  is  worth  citing  of  the  appreciative  study 
which  was  given  to  Aubigne's  poetry  and  prose  by  English- 
men who  played  in  their  country  in  the  seventeenth  century 
parts  comparable  to  those  fdled  by  Huguenots  in  France 
half  a  century  earlier.  The  great  Lord  Fairfax,  the  parlia- 
mentary general,  who,  like  Aubigne,  divided  his  allegiance 
between  war  and  the  muses,  was  a  close  reader  of  Aubigne's 
Wistoi're  Universelle,  and  he  rendered  into  English  verse 
(without  acknowledgement)  the  elegy  on  the  death  of 
Henry  IV,  which  is  one  of  several  poetic  interludes  enlivening 
pathetically  the  progress  of  the  grim  prose  chronicle.^ 

'   I  give  by  way  of  specimen  two  stanzas  in  both  French  and  English  : 

Aubigne.  Fairfax. 

Ouoi?  faut-il  que  Henri,  ce  re-  Ah!    is   it   then    great    Henry   so 
doute  monarque,  famed 

Ce    dompteur    des    humains,    soit  For  taming  men,  himself  by  death 

dompte  par  la  Parque  ?  is  tamed  ! 

Cue  I'oeil  qui  vit  sa  gloire  ores  \  oye  What  eye  his  glory  saw,  now  his 

sa  fin  ?  sad  doom. 

Que  le-nostre  pour  lui  incessam-  But  must  dissolve  in  tears,  sigh  out 
ment  dcgoutle  ?  his  soul, 


333 

VIII 

Salluste  du  Bartas 

(niillaume  Salluste  du  Bartas  was  the  Huguenot  poet  who 
was  identified  beyond  all  risk  of  neglect  with  the  cause  of 
French  Protestantism  at  home  and  abroad  in  Shakespeare's 
era.  I)Orn  in  1544,  Du  Bartas  was  Aubigne's  senior  by  six 
years,  but  predeceased  him  by  forty.  Like  Aubigne,  he  was 
a  squire  of  Gascony,  and  was  amply  endowed  with  the  Gascon 
exuberance  of  speech  and  thought.  A  Huguenot  warrior 
of  soldierly  instincts,  he  was  at  once  a  scriptural  pietist  and 
a  classical  scholar.  Nor  did  his  religious  ardour  damp  his  ' 
enthusiasm  for  the  work  of  the  Pleiade,  to  which  he  professed 
discipleship.     Of  Ronsard  he  wrote  : 

Ce  grand  Ronsard,  qui  pour  orner  sa  France, 
Le  Grec  et  le  Latin  despouille  d  eloquence ; 
Et  d'un  esprit  hardi  manie  heureusement 
Toute  sorte  de  vers,  de  style,  et  d'argument.^ 

Et   que   si    peu   de   terre   enferme  So  small  a  shred  of  earth  should 

dans  son  sein  him  entomb 

Celui  qui  meritoit  de  la  possedcr  Whose  acts  deserved  possession  of 

toute  ?  the  whole. 


II   le  faut,  on    le   doit.     Et  que  Yes,  it    is    fit;   what   else   can  we 

pouvons-nous  rendre  return 

Que    des    pleurs    assidus,   a    cette  But  tears  as  offerings  to  his  sacred 

auguste  cendre 1  urn  ? 

Arrousons    h.  jamais    son    marbre  With  them  his  sable  marble  tomb 

triste  blanc.  bedew ; 

Non,    non,    plutost    quittons    ces  No,  no  such  arms  too  weak,  since 

inutiles  armes  !  it  appears 

Mais  puisqu'il  fut  pour  nous  pro-  For  us  he  of  his  blood  too  careless 

digue  de  son  sang,  grew 

Serions-nous  bien  pour  lui  avares  Have  we  naught  else  for  him  but 

de  nos  larmes  ?  a  few  tears  .' 

The  indebtedness  of  Lord  Fairfax  to  Aubigne  was  first  pointed  out  by 
Mr.  Edward  Bliss  Reed,  whose  valuable  '  Poems  of  Thomas  third  Lord 
Fairfax  from  MS.  Fairfax  40  in  the  Bodleian  Library,  Oxford '  was 
published  in  the  Tra7isactio7is  of  tlie  Cofinecticut  Academy  of  Arts  and 
Sciences  (July,  1909).  It  is  curious  to  note  that  Lord  Fairfax's  Recrea- 
tiotts  of  my  Solitude  in  the  same  collection  is  a  literal  metrical  rendering 
of  a  famous  contemporary  French  poem  La  Solitude  (1650)  by  Marc 
Antoine  de  St.  Amant  (1594-1661),  a  popular  member  of  Malherbe's 
school.  Fairfax  was  also  an  unavowed  translator  of  a  poem  of  Malherbe. 
^  Du  Bartas,  Les  CEuvres  Poet iq ties,  ed.  161 5,  p.  284. 


334        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

But  Du   Bartas's   strong   Huguenot   enthusiasm   led  him   to 
modify  his  master's  instructions  in  matters  of  moment. 

Du  Bellay,  in  his  manifesto  of  the  new  poetic  movement 
in  France,  had  urged  Frenchmen  to  cultivate  the  epic.  Du 
Bartas  eagerly  accepted  the  advice.  He  deliberately  attempted 
a  series  of  long  epic  poems ;  but,  contrary  to  the  expectation 
of  his  mentor,  he  sought  his  themes,  not  in  Greek  or  Latin 
history  or  mythology,  but  in  the  Bible.  He  was  a  preco- 
cious writer,  and  his  earliest  work  was  produced  at  the  age 
of  twenty-one.  It  was  an_ejoic_caUed_y>/^///^.  Here  Du 
\  Bartas  offered  a  poetic  paraphrase  of  the  book  of  the 
j  Apocrypha  which  tells  how  the  fair  Hebrew  heroine  murdered 
'  Nebuchadnezzar's  general  Holofernes  in  order  to  save  from 
destruction  her  native  town  of  Bethulia.  Du  Bartas,  loyal  to  the 
Huguenot  ambition  of  reconciling  Hebraism  with  classicism, 
deliberately  planned  his  Judith^  he  tells  us,  on  the  model  of 
Homer  and  \^ergil.  From  every  point  of  view  Du  Bartas's 
first  effort  in  poetry  reflected  the  Huguenot  temper.  The 
cultured  mother  of  his  leader  and  master,  Henrj^  of  Navarre, 
suggested  the  subject,  which  was  suspected  of  a  veiled  intention 
of  supporting  the  Huguenot  plea  of  tyrannicide. 

This  first-fruit  of  Du  Bartas's  pious  fancy  was  published  in 
1573,  together  with  a  second  poem  called  after  one  of  the  muses, 
L'Uraiiie.  There  the  poet  versified  his  favourite  argument 
for  the  regeneration  of  poetiy  by  scriptural  stud}-.  The 
volume  containing  the  two  poems  was  significantly  and  appro- 
^priately  entitled  La  Ahise  Chretienne. 

But  Du  Bartas's  full  fame  was  won  with  a  later  performance 
of  more  imposing  dimensions.    His  uiaginim  opus  is  an  elabo- 
rate description  in  verse  of  the  creation  of  the  world.     This 
epic  poem  was  called  La  Semaine^  and  was  divided  into  seven 
books,  or  days.      Each  book,  or  day,  described  events  of  a 
I   day  in  creation.     The  work  came  from  the  press  in  1578.     A 
\   sequel,  called  La  Scconde  Seiuaine  ('  The  Second  Week '), 
\  was  left  unfinished  by  the  author  at  his  death  in  1590.     He 
intended  to  divide  this  second  part  also  into  seven  days,  in 
which  he  should  describe  the  fortunes  of  mankind  from  Adam 
down  to  the  end  of  the  world.     But  only  four  days  were 


TH]^:  1':pic  of  thi:  creation  335 

completed.  Again,  all  the  topics  bclonoed  to  Old  Testament 
history,  and  ranged  from  the  felicity  of  Adam  and  Eve  in  the 
garden  of  Eden  to  the  fall  of  Jerusalem  before  the  hosts  of 
Nebuchadnezzar.  L^ach  day  in  the  '  Second  \A\"ek  '  is  divided 
into  four  books,  so  that  the  unfinished  sequel  reaches  sixteen 
books,  and  is  nearly  three  times  as  long  as  the  completed 
'  First  \\'eek  '.^  In  point  of  size  La  Sc}Jiaine^  with  La  Secoude 
Scmaiiie^  is  a  formidable  contribution  to  poetic  literature. 
Ronsard,  Avhom  Du  Bartas  to  the  end  claimed  as  master, 
enigmatically  remarked  of  his  disciple's  masterpiece,  that 
Du  Bartas  did  in  '  a  week  '  what  it  took  him  his  whole  life 
to  accomplish.  Du  Bartas's  epic  is  only  a  little  less  volu- 
minous than  the  complete  works  of  Ronsard. 

Despite  his  pious  aim,  Du  Bartasjs  affinities  with  the 
Pleiade  remained  to  the  end  unmistakable.  Most  of  the 
characteristic  marks  of  the  Pleiade  style  were  assimilated  by 
Du  Bartas,  although  he  distorted  recklessly  some  peculiarities 
of  the  school.  \\\\\\  a  zeal  unknown  to  the  fathers  of  the 
Pleiade,  Du  Bartas,  for  example,  pursued  Ronsard's  inven- 
tion of  the  compound  epithet.    The  Huguenot  poet  employed 

'  The  titles  of  the  separate  poems  in  La  Seconde  Sciiumic  run  as 
follows :  — 

Le  premier  Jour        I.  Ede7i  (Story  of  Adam  and  Eve). 

2.  V Imposture  (Eve's  temptations). 

3.  Les  Fiifies  (The  expulsion  from  Paradise). 

4.  Les  Artifces  (The  later  history  of  Adam  and  Eve). 

Le  second  Jour         i.  LArche  (Noah  and  the  Ark). 

2.  Babylone  (The  tower  of  Babel). 

3.  Les  Colonies  (The  dispersion). 

4.  Les   Colonnes     (A    treatise    on    mathematics    and 

astronomy). 

Le  troisiesme  Jour    i.  La  Vocatio7i  (The  story  of  Abraham). 

2.  Les  Peres  (The  story  of  Isaac). 

3.  La  Lay  (The  story  of  Moses  and  the  lawgivers). 

4.  Les  Capitaiiics  (The  early  history  of  the  Jewish 

state). 

Le  cjuatriesme  Jour  i.  Les  Trophces  (The  story  of  King  David). 

2.  La  Mag/!tjice7ice  (The  story  of  King  Solomon). 

3.  Le  Schisme  (The  story  of  the  kings  of  Judah  and 

Israel). 

4.  La  Decadence  (The  story  of  the  fall  of  Jerusalem). 
An  Appendix  deals  with  the  story  of  the  prophet  Jonah. 


336        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

the  device  untiringly,  sometimes  pleasingly,  but  more  often 
clumsily  and  cacophonously.  Elemental  fire  he  describes 
thus : 

Le  feu  doiine-clarte^  poi'tc-chaiid,  jcite-flauime^ 
vSource  de  mouvement,  chasse-ordurc^  doniie-dme. 

Again,  with  more  than  Ronsardian  licence  he  creates  a  number 
of  words,  mostly  onomatopoeic.  He  has  a  habit,  too,  of 
duplicating  the  first  syllable  of  common  verbs,  ^.^.  floflotiant 
(waving)  and  babaffant  (beating),  to  emphasize  a  suggestion  of 
movement.  He  is  prolific  in  far-fetched  and  strange  similes, 
often  drawn  from  common  objects  which  lie  outside  the 
ordinary  range  of  poetry.  The  practice  was  not  unknown 
to  Ronsard,  who  is  the  inventor  of  Du  Bartas's  oft-repeated 
comparison  of  new-fallen  snow  on  leafless  trees  to  a  periwig 
or  covering  of  false  hair.  But  Ronsard  is  sparing  of  eccen- 
tricities in  which  Du  Bartas's  muse  revelled. 

In  his  choice  of  metre  Du  Bartas  works  within  narrower 
bounds  than  those  in  which  Ronsard  and  his  friends  exercise 
their  powers.  Du  Bartas  restricted  himself  with  rarest  excep- 
tions to  Alexandrine  rhyming  couplets.  The  Alexandrine  is 
an  old  French  metre.  But  the  Pleiade,  w^hen  it  condemned  to 
limbo  almost  all  the  metrical  forms  of  mediaeval  France,  reserved 
the  Alexandrine  for  future  use,  and  gave  it  a  new  and  an 
improved  lease  of  life.  Du  Bartas  pursued  the  reformation 
of  the  ancient  metre.  He  varied  and  multiplied  the  pauses, 
at  times  with  rugged  and  abrupt  effect,  but  often  with 
a  triumphant  challenge  of  monotony.  Not  all  his  metrical 
innovations  are  commendable  ;  he  has  a  liking  for  tricks  of 
rhyme,  some  of  which  were  revivals  of  discredited  fashions 
of  an  earlier  epoch.  After  the  manner  of  old  vers  rapp07'tes, 
he  has  an  odd  habit  of  repeating  at  the  opening  of  the  second 
line  of  his  couplet  the  last  two  syllables  or  words  of  the  first  line. 
His  fluency  of  utterance  was  irrepressible  and  ill-regulated. 
Yet  one  cannot  deny  him  a  measure  of  the  metrical  ingenuity 
which  is  a  constant  characteristic  of  Ronsard's  school. 

In  artistic  presentation  of  his  theme  Du  Bartas  falls  below  the 
standard  of  his  tutors.     No  nice  faculty  of  selection  or  arrange- 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  LA  SEMAINE      337 

nient  can  be  put  to  I)u  Hartas's  credit  in  elaborating  his  sacred 
story.     He  sows  his  furrows  with  the  sack,  emptying  into  them 
a  heterogeneous  and  multifarious   mass  of  observation   and 
information.    His  epic  of  the  creation  has  points  of  resemblance 
to  a  crude  encyclopaedia  of  scientific  phenomena  as  well  as 
of  dogmatic  theology.     After  describing  in  the  first  book  the 
emergence  of  elemental  light   out  of  chaos,  he   pours   into 
the  second  book  a  flood  of  ill-digested  meteorological  notes. 
In  the  third  he  pays  like  court  to  geology,  mineralogy,  andj 
botany  ;   in  the  fourth  to  astronomy  of  an  anti-Copernicar/ 
pattern  ;  in  the  fifth  to  zoolog}'  and  human  physiology.     In : 
the  last  book,  after  a  quaint  picture  of  a  very  anthropomorphic ' 
Deity  resting  from  his  works  and  complacently  contemplating 
them  as  a  whole,  the  poet  becomes  doctrinal  on  the  orthodox 
Huguenot  lines. 

Yet  Du  Bartas  mingles  with  his  scientific  and  theological 
reflections,  which  are  often  grotesque,  descriptions  of  both 
animate  and  inanimate  nature,  which  betray  the  vigour  of  poetic 
insight  and  a  pictorial  command  of  detail.  He  is  catholic  in 
his  outlook  on  natural  phenomena.  A  spring  morning  is 
portrayed  with  no  less  realistic  energy^  than  a  storm  at  sea. 
Despite  his  warlike  instincts,  he  was  almost  as  sympathetic 
as  Ronsard  in  his  study  of  rural  life,  where  sleep  was  undis- 
turbed by  drum,  fife,  or  trumpet,  and  was  soothed  by  the 
gentle  murmuring  of  streams.  He  could  define  the  points 
of  a  horse  with  an  enthusiasm  and  an  accuracy  which  seem  to 
anticipate  Shakespeare's  treatment  of  the  same  theme.^     The 

^  With  Sylvester's  faithful  translation  (1613  ed.,  pp.  286-8)  of  Du 
Bartas's  account  of  '  a  goodly  jennet  '  (ce  beau  letiet)  may  well  be  com- 
pared Shakespeare's  animated  description  of  a  '  courser'  catching  sight  of 
a  'jennet '  in  Venus  and  Adonis  (lines  271-4,  295-8,  301-4J.  Shakespeare 
probably  consulted  the  French  text. 

Sylvester's  Translation.  Venus  and  Adonis. 

With  r<>«;/^/,  high,  hollow,  smooth,  His   ears   Jip-prick'd ;   his  braided 

brown,  jetty  hoof,  hanging  jnane 

With  pasterns  short,   upright,  but  Upon  his  compass'dcrest  now  stands 

yet  in  mean  ;  on  end  ; 

Dry  sinewy  shanks  ;  strong,  flesh-  His  nostrils  drink  the  air,  and  forth 

less  knees,  and  lean  ;  again, 

With   hartlike  legs,   broad   breast,  As  from  a  furnace,  vapours  doth 

and  large  behind,  he  send : .  .  . 


338   THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

movements  of  a  spicier  were  shown  to  the  life,  and  his  ear 
was  so  keenly  attuned  to  the  harmonies  of  nature  that  he 
could  analyse  the  song  of  lark  and  nightingale  with  an 
admirable  veracity.  Even  when  he  writes  of  the  roaring  of 
a  lion,  he  gives  his  reader  the  impression  that  he  has  heard 
the  note.  His  minute  description  of  spacious  landscapes 
shows  that  he  possessed  the  eye  of  a  painter  for  perspective. 
He  presents  mountains,  meadow,  sea,  and  streams  in  combina- 
tion, and  out  of  them  constructs  a  background  in  lines  like 
these  : 

Un  fleuve  coule  ici ;  la  naist  une  fontaine  ; 
Ici  s'esleve  un  mont ;  la  s'abbaisse  une  plaine  ; 
Ici  fume  un  chasteau ;  la  fume  une  cite, 
Et  la  flotte  une  nef  sur  Neptune  irrite.^ 

The  forefront  and  the  middle  distance  of  the  scene  are  skil- 
fully broken  by  charming  vignettes  of  sportsmen  aiming  their 
guns  at  flying  birds,  of  striplings  wrestling  on  village  greens, 
and  of  shepherdesses  tending  their  flocks. 

In  the  two  decades  following  the  St.  Bartholomew's  Massacre, 

'ith   body   large,    smooth    flanks,      Round  Jioofd,    sJiort-jointed,    fet- 

and  double  chined  :  locks  shag  and  long, 

A  crested  neck  bowed  like  a  half-      Broad  breast,  full  eye,  small  head, 

bent  bow,  and  nostril  wide, 

Whereon  a  long,  tJiin,  curled  mane      High  crest,  short  ears,  straight  legs 

doth  flow  ;  and  passing  strong, 

Kfirmful  tail,  touching  the  lowly       Thin  tnane,  thick  tail, broad  buttock, 

ground,  tender  hide  ;  .  .  . 

With   dock   between  two   fair  fat 

buttocks  drowned  ; 
A  pricked  ear,  that  rests  as   little 

space, 
As  his  light  foot,  a  lean,  bare  bony      Sometimes  he  scuds  far  ofif ,  .  . 

face, 
1h\niovi\,2ind  head  but  o/amiddli?tg      To  bid  the  ivind  a   base  he   now 

size,  prepares, 

Fidl,  lively  flaming,  quickly  rolling      And  ^vheV  he  run  or  fly  they  know 

eyes,  not  whether. 

Great  foaming  mouth,  hot-fjtming 

jiostril  wide. 
Of  chestnut  hair,  his  forehead  starri 

fied  .  .  . 
As  this  light  horse  scuds,  .  .  . 
Flying  the  earth,  the  flying  air  he 

catches, 
Borne  7vhirlwindlike. 

*  La  Premihc  Semaine :  le  septiesme  jour,  1615  ed.,  p.  164. 


DU  RARTAS'S  FAME  IN  FRANCE     339 

Du  Hartas's  sacred  poetry  was  warnily  wclcomccl  in  iMance 
by   the   growing-  band  of  sympathizers   with    the    Huguenot 
cause.     Thirty  editions  of  La  Seuiaiiic  are  said  to  have  been 
issued   within   six   years    of   its    final   completion    in     1584. 
vSimon  Goulart^the  successor  of  Calvin  and  Beza  as  ruler  of 
Geneva,  who   had   already  offered  his   fellow  countrymen  a 
French  version  of  one  of  Hotman  s  great  political  treatises, 
prepared  early  in  the  seventeenth  century  an  elaborate  com- 
mentary on  1  )u  Bartas's  epic.    But,  save  in  the  straitest  coteries, 
Du  Bartas's  triumph  In  his  own  country  was  short-lived.     Cul-   I 
tured  taste  quickly  came  to  scorn  his  work.     Modern  French   \ 
critics  have  concentrated  their  attention  on  his  many  faults, 
and  have  condemned  the  incorrectness  of  his  style,  and  the 
irregularities  of  his  imagery.     He  has  been  ridiculed  as  the 
enfant  terrible  of  the  Pleiade  school,  while  a  juster  and  more    ^^^^„^ 
charitable  verdict  sneers  at  him  as  '  un  Milton  manque  \  2>«.  (jlff^^ 

Greater  indulgence   has  been  exten3ed~~lo  Da  Bartas  in     i<>jv-^ 
recent  years  by  both  English  and  German  critics,  who  detect        ^}J>^^^£^ 
both  dignity  and  vivacity  at  many  turns  of  his  work.     Goethe 
saluted  him  as  the  king  of  French  poets,  and  never  ceased  to 
emphasize  the  grandeur  of  his  conceptions. 

The  truth  seems  to  be  that  Du  Bartas's  obtrusive  defects — 
his  unmanageable  erudition,  his  lack  of  artistic  restraint,  his 
ungenial  pietism— were  aUIed  w4th  an  Imaginative  capacity 
which  was  too  robust  to  sink  under  their  weight.  His 
strenuous  copiousness  and  his  exalted  faith  In  himself  have 
suggested  to  an  English  critic  a  comparison  between  him 
and  Victor  Hugo,  some  touch  of  whose  poetic  fury  a  French 
critic  quite  independently  detected  In  Du  Bartas's  Huguenot 
contemporary,  Aublgne.  Undoubtedly  both  Du  Bartas  and 
Aubigne  were  capable  of  fusing  Huguenot  zeal  and  poetic 
ardour.  Nor  did  they  lack  intellectual  energy.  Their  tem- 
peraments begot,  too,  a  power  of  flowing  declamation  which 
Is  rarely  found  in  poetry  outside  the  scope  of  drama. 


Z  2 


340       THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

IX 

Elizabethan  Disciples  of  Du  Bartas 

'  Du  Rartas  was  the  poet  whom  the  EHzabethans  mainly 
identified  with  the  Huguenot  movement.  The  honours  which 
Shakespeare's  generation  paid  him  excelled  those  which  were 
^  bestowed  on  any  other  foreign  contemporary,  and  Ronsard's 
1  popularity  waned  in  his  presence.  His  fame  passed  like 
a  comet  over  the  literary  firmament  of  France.  In  that  ot 
England  it  remained  for  near  a  century  a  fixed  star.  Du 
Bartas's  ardent  piety  accounts  for  the  fervour  of  applause, 
for  the  flood  of  eulog}'.  His  critical  shortcomings  passed 
almost  unrecognized.  A  rugged  English  translation  to  which 
he  mainly  owed  his  vogue  across  the  Channel  accentuated 
his  tendencies  to  grotesque  bombast.  Justness  of  critical 
perception  was  sacrificed  by  Du  Bartas's  English  admirers. 
Their  estimates  placed  him  above  even  Shakespeare  and 
Spenser.  The  eager  greeting  of  Du  Bartas  by  the  Elizabe- 
'  thans  is  a  curiosity  in  the  history  of  literary  criticism.  The 
generous  tributes  pointedly  illustrate  the  occasional  tendency 
of  contemporary  opinion  to  set  what  is  second  or  third-rate 
in  literature  above  what  is  first-rate.  Owing  largely  to  a 
widespread  error  of  judgement,  Du  Bartas  exerted  a  peculiar 
influence,  which  no  other  foreign  writer  quite  equalled,  on 
English  poetic  developments.  Sacred  poetry  in  our  language 
has  some  title  to  be  reckoned  an  offspring  of  his  Huguenot 
muse. 

The  discoverer  in  Britain  of  this  new  constellation  in  the 
French  sky  of  poetry  was  no  other  than  Jarne^  VI  of  .Scotland. 
The  reading  of  Du  Bartas's  early  work  UUranie  filTed  the 
Scottish  king  with  unbounded  enthusiasm,  and  he  turned  it 
with  his  own  pen  into  English  or  Scottish  verse.  A  like 
^  service  was  rendered  at  King  James's  suggestion  to  Du  Bartas's 
"^  first  &pic,j7tdjf/i,  by  one  of  the  royal  attendants  at  the  Edin- 
burgh court,  Thomas  Hudson.  Hudson's  translation  oijjidith 
appeared  in  1584.  Meanwhile  Du  Bartas  had  scaled  the 
highest  flight  of  his  invention  by  the  issue  of  his  La  Semaine. 


KING  JAiMP:S'S  admiration  341 

James  VI  of  Scotland,  in  perusing-  that  poem,  was  moved  to 
ecstasy,  and  to  a  passionate  yearning  to  make  the  poet's  per- 
sonal acquaintance.  He  addressed  urgent  letters  to  Henry 
of  Navarre  and  to  the  poet  himself  begging  that  Du  Hartas 
should  visit  Scotland.  James  described  himself  as  torn  be- 
tween sentiments  of  grief  and  desire,  between  grief  that  his 
own  country  had  produced  no  such  triumphal  pyramid 
of  literature,  and  desire  to  fix  his  gaze  on  the  person  of  this 
new  poetic  Colossus.^      Du    Bartas  yielded  to   the   flattery, 

^  The  letter  of  invitation  which  James  VI  addressed  to  Du  Bartas, 
'His  Majesties  letter  unto  Mr.  du  Bartas'  (MS.  Bodl.  165,  fol.  75),  was 
printed  by  Mr.  Rait  for  the  first  time  in  his  Liisus  Regius,  1901,  pp.  60  I. 
It  ran  as  follows  : — • 

'Alexandre  le  grand ayant  este  informe  de  la  grande  iiertu  &  sagesse  de 
Diogenes  philosophe  cinique  en  fut  tellement  rauy  qu'il  ne  sceut  contenter 
iusques  tant  qu'il  eut  communiqque  auec  lui,  estimant  d'aquerir  non  la 
moindre  partie  de  contentement  &  renommee  en  se  faisant  oculatus  testis 
des  singulieres  uertus  de  ce  susdit  personnage.  La  pareille  occasion  de 
rauissement,  6  tres  illustre  poete,  m'estant  ministre'e  par  la  lecture  de  mon 
Homere  (car  de  mesme  facon  ie  me  sers  des  menus-fruicts  de  nostre 
admirable  muse  comme  ce  susdit  conquereur  des  Iliades)  que  jay  este 
agite  de  deux  fortes  passions  dun  mesme  instant,  a  scauoir,  iuste  Douleur 
&  insatiable  Desir :  Douleur  que  ce  pais  n'a  este  si  heureusement  fertile 
que  d'auoir  produit  un  tell'  colosse  ou  piramide  triomfale  triomfant  uraye- 
ment  sur  le  monde  d'un  triomfe  eternell,  pour  auoir  le  premier  mis  en 
ceuure,  &  le  seul  puise  profondement  iusques  au  fonds  ce  diuin  subiect, 
chantant  poetiquement  la  creation  &  conseruation  aussi  bien  du  grand 
monde  que  du  microcosme  par  la  sage  puissance  &  soigneuse  prouidence 
du  tout  puissant  Createur,  mais  quant  a  I'extresme  Desir,  il  me  pousse 
sans  cesse  a  I'imitation  de  ce  Douleur  du  monde  que  comme  iournelle- 
ment  i'oy  le  chant  de  I'Uranie  ie  puisse  une  fois  obtenir  la  ueue  de  son 
fidelle  secretaire.  N'estimes,  6  Saluste,  qu'en  usant  ces  epithetes  enuers 
uous  ie  me  ueuille  seruir  de  la  faulse  flatterie  ains  du  deu  &  uray  louange 
de  la  uertu,  le  hault  louange  de  laquelle  ne  doyt  estre  passee  en  silence 
habitante  en  personne  queiquonque  :  &  comme  chacuns  desireux  de  uoir 
la  pourtraict  de  ceux  qui  ont  surpasse  le  monde  en  quelque  insigne  vertu, 
d'autant  qu'ill  le  remett  en  memoire  des  uertus  si  louables  de  mesme,  ayie 
un  ardant  desir  de  ueoir  le  palais  de  la  Muse  vrayement  celeste,  puis  que 
null  mortell  ne  pent  veoir  I'host,  pour  ceste  cause  ie  uous  escrips  cest 
present.  Ie  uous  prie  donques  tres  affectueusement  de  prendre  tant  de 
peine  que  de  uenir  icy  au  commencement  de  1'  este  prochain,  &  mesme 
en  may,  sil  est  possible  ;  le  uoyage  n'est  point  long,  uous  pouues  passer 
par  terre,  demeurer  icy  aussi  peu  de  temps  que  uous  uoudres,  nonobstant 
les  troubles,  ie  m'asseure  que  le  roy  de  Nauar  le  trouuerra  bon  pour  si 
peu  de  temps  car  ie  luy  ay  aussi  escriput  pour  ce  mesme  effect,  &  ie 
m'asseure  que  uous  uiendres  le  plus  uolontiers  puis  que  nous  auons 
conwmnes  decs :  puis  donques  que  iay  tant  uctu  uostre  ombre  en  uos 
oeuures  une  fois  t/a  dextrae  iungere  dextram  ie  uous  prie  de  rechef  de 
uenir,  m'asseurant  donques  que  puisque  ma  demande  est  si  iuste  ex 
ora/ore  cxorator  Jieri  ie  uous  commets  &  uos  estudes  a  la  sainte  tuition 
&  inspiration  du  bon  &  uray  dieu.' 


342        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

and  spent  many  weeks  with  the  court  at  Edinburgh  in  the 
year  1587.  He  acknowledged  King  James's  hospitahty  by 
translating  into  French  a  small  original  piece  by  his  royal 
host — a  poem  on  the  great  naval  battle  of  Lepanto  of  Octo- 
ber, 1 57 1,  when  the  Cross  triumphed  over  the  Crescent,  and 
the  Turks  were  routed  by  Spanish  and  Venetian  fleets. 

On  the  journey  to  and  from  Scotland  Du  Bartas  paused 
in  England,  and  the  welcome  of  Queen  Elizabeth  and  her 
courtiers  was  hardly  less  enthusiastic  than  that  which  was 
accorded  him  north  of  the  Tweed.  The  fame  of  the  great 
queen  had  already  moved  him  to  a  panegyric.  In  his  sacred 
J  epic  he  had  expressed  a  hope  that  his  writings  might  be 
read  by  'la  grand' Ehzabeth,  la  prudente  Pallas'.  He  had 
addressed  her  in  strains  which  were  well  calculated  to  appeal 
to  her  idiosyncrasy  : 

Claire  perle  du  Nord,  guerriere,  domte-Mars, 
Continue  a  cherir  les  Muses  et  les  Arts, 
Et  si  iamais  ces  vers  peuvent  d'une  aile  agile, 
Franchissant  TOcean,  voler  iusqu'a  ton  Isle, 
Et  tomber,  fortunes,  entre  ces  blanches  mains, 
Qui  sous  un  iuste  frein  regissent  tant  d'humains, 
Yoy  les  d'un  ceil  benin,  et  favorable  pense 
Qu'il  faut  pour  te  louer,  avoir  ton  eloquence.^ 

Of  English  literature  Du  Bartas  had  formed  no  clear  con- 
ception before  his  visit.  He  had  saluted  Sir  Thomas  More 
and  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon  as  pillars  of  English  eloquence,  and 
had  paid  a  compHment  to  the  sweet  song  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney, 
I  whom  he  hailed  as  a  unique  swan  adorning  the  current  of 
the  river  Thames.^     The  Frenchman  gave  no  proof  that  he 

'  La  Seconde  Semainc :  le  secofid join;  pt.  ii,  1615  ed.,  p.  284. 
2        Le  parler  des  Anglois  a  pour  fermes  piliers 

Thomas  More,  et  Baccon,  tous  deux  grands  Chancelliers, 

Qui  seurant  leur  langage,  et  le  tirant  d'enfance, 

Au  sgavoir  politique  ont  conioint  I'eloquence. 

Et  le  Milor  Cydne  qui,  Cygne  doux-chantant, 

Va  les  flots  orgueilleux  de  Tamise  flatant, 

Ce  fleuve  gros  d'honneur  emporte  la  faconde 

Dans  le  sein  de  Thetis,  et  Thetis  par  le  Monde. 

{La  Scconde  Setnaine :  le  secotid  jour,  pt.  ii,  161 5  ed.,  p.  283.) 

As  early  as  1592  Tom  Nashe  in  his  Pierce  Pemiilesse  cited  this  passage 
as  a  notable  praise  of  'immortal  Sir  P.  Sidney'  whom,  Nashe  tells  his 


l^ 


DU  BARTAS'S  VISIT  TO  ENGLAND  343 

extended  while  in  England  his  acquaintance  with  l^nglish 
literature.  There  was  nothing  reciprocal  about  the  influence 
that  he  exerted  on  his  hosts ;  he  derived  no  help  from  them. 

Unluckily,  Du  Bartas's  visit  could  not  be  repeated,  for 
he  returned  to  Erance  to  wield  his  sword  anew  against  the 
Catholics,  with  results  fatal  to  himself.  He  fought  bravely 
at  the  side  of  Henry  of  Navarre  at  the  great  battle  of  Ivry 
(March  14,  1590),  and  he  celebrated  the  great  victory  in  a 
spirited  hymn  or  cantique.  But  in  the  engagement  he  re- 
ceived many  wounds  which  within  four  months  caused  his 
death. 

Shortly  before  Du  Bartas  arrived  in  England,  vSidney,  the 
gentle  friend  of  all  Huguenot  activity,  had  acknowledged  the 
high  compliment  which  Du  Bartas  paid  him,  by  embarking 
on  a  first  translation  into  English  of  Du  Bartas's  verse.^ 
Some  portion  of  Sidney's  tribute  was  completed  before 
Sidney's  death  in  1586.  It  was  admired  in  manuscript,  but 
nothing  of  it  has  survived. 

As  in  the  case  of  Du  Plessis,  Du  Bartas's  presence  in  Great 
Britain  greatly  stimulated  his  literary  reputation  among  Queen 
Elizabeth's  subjects.  Cultivated  society  in  London  was  hardly 
slower  than  the  Scottish  monarch  to  acknowledge  the  fascina- 
tion of  the  Huguenot  epic.  But  it  was  not  until  its  author 
had  passed  away  that  La  Seinaine^  with  some  minor  works 
of  the  author,  which  had  not  previously  been  translated,  wxre 
offered  in  an  English  printed  book  to  an  eager  and  expectant 
public. 

reader, '  noble  Salustius  (that  thrice  singular  French  poet)  hath  famoused, 
together  with  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon  and  merry  Sir  Thomas  Moore,  for  the 
chief  pillars  of  our  English  speech'  (Nashe,  Works,  ed.  McKerrow,  i, 
pp.  193-4)- 

^  William  Ponsonby,  the  London  publisher,  obtained  a  licence  for  the 
publication  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  Arcadia  on  August  23,  1588;  at  the 
same  time  he  secured  permission  to  print  '  A  translation  of  Salust  de 
Bartas  done  by  ye  same  Sir  P.  in  the  Englishe'  (Arber's  Statiotiers' 
Register,  W.  496).  Sir  Fulke  Greville,  writing  to  Sir  Francis  Walsinghani 
in  1587,  soon  after  Sidney's  death,  eulogizes  his  rendering  of  Du  Bartas 
into  English  metre  (State  Papers  Dom.).  Florio  in  dedicating  his 
Montaigne  (Bk.  ii,  1603)  to  Sidney's  daughter,  the  Countess  of  Rutland,  . 
and  to  Sidney's  friend,  Lady  Rich,  notes  that  he  had  seen  Sidney's^ 
rendering  of '  the  first  septmane  of  that  arch-poet  Du  Bartas  ',  and  entreats 
the  ladies  to  publish  it.     Nothing  further  is  known  of  Sidney's  effort. 


344        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 


WK 


The  chief,  Elizabethan  translator  of  Du  Rartas,  Joshua 
Sylvester,  was  well  versed  in  JFrench.  Born  in  1563,  a  year 
before  Shakespeare,  he  was  educated  at  the  Grammar  School 
of  Southampton,  of  which  the  headmaster  was  a  French- 
speaking  Flemish  refugee.  As  a  schoolboy  he  talked  nothing 
but  French.  In  early  manhood  he  went  into  business  as  a 
clothier,  joining  a  London  corporation  of  merchants  trading 
with  Germany.  His  leisure  was  devoted  to  literature,  and  as 
/early  as  1592  he  first  declared  his  discipleship  to  Du  Bartas  by 
[  publishing  an  English  version  of  the  '  third  day  '  of  Du  Bartas's 
I  'second  week  ' — (the  story  of  Isaac) — together  with  the  frag- 
ment of  the  story  of  Jonah  and  the  song  of  triumph  over  the 
victory  of  Ivry.  Other  portions  of  Du  Bartas's  work  followed 
rapidly,  and  in  i6o5._there  appeared  a  complete  collection 
of  'Du  Bartas  His  Devine  Weekes  and  Workes  translated'. 
Many  reprints  were  issued  between  that  date  and  1641. 
Sylvester's  literary  services  were  rewarded  by  a  pension  and 
an  honorary  office  in  the  household  of  Prince  Henr>-,  James  I's 
elder  son.  But  he  never  abandoned  his  association  with  trade, 
and  his  last  five  years  were  spent  abroad— at  Middelburg — 
where  he  died  in  1618,  two  years  later  than  Shakespeare, 

Sylvester's  version  of  Du  Bartas,  each  instalment  of  which 

was  welcomed  by  Elizabethans  with  shouts  of  applause,  is  in 

'^-'^        decasyllabic  couplets.     The  Englishman  is  loyal  to  all  the 

eccentficitTes^fhis  French  master's  style,  to  the  onomatopoeic 

duplication  of  syllables,  to  the  tricks  of  jingling  rhyme,  to  the 

abrupt  pauses.    The  English  poetaster  is,  above  all,  a  slave  to 

the  compound  epithet,  which  Sir  Philip  Sidney  had  first  intro- 

'  duced  from  Ronsard's  French.     Sylvester's  combinations  of 

■   words  were   so  clumsy  as    to   lead    sagacious  critics    to  the 

opinion   that   the  device  was   in    conflict  with   the   English 

^  idiom. ^     Sylvester,  exaggerates,  too,  the  grotesque  surprises 

of  the    French   imagery.     On  occasion,  however,  he   inter- 

^  Dryden  in  his  Aj)ology  fo?-  Heroic  Poetry  artd  Poetic  License  altogether 

-    condemns  in  EngHsh  '  connection  of  epithets  or  the  conjunction  of  two 

^-   words  in  one'.     He  praises  the  habit   as  frequent  and   elegant   in  the 

jGreek  but  blames  '  Sir  Philip  Sidney  and  the  translator  of  Du  Bartas  ' 

for  having  '  unluckily  attempted  [it] '  in  the  English  (Dryden's  Essays,  ed. 

\V.  P.  Ker,  i.  187). 


SYLVESTER'S  TRANSLATION      345 

polatcs  on'oinal  lines.  He  adapts  to  an  Eng-Iisli  environment  ^ 
Du  Hartas's  references  to  French  personages  and  affairs,  and 
appeals  to  his  master  for  permission  to  weave  into  the  rich 
garland  flowers  of  his  own  growing.  He  shows  to  advantage 
in  some  of  these  developments.  Now  and  then  he  even  invents 
a  compound  epithet  of  peculiar  charm,  which  there  is  nothing 
in  Du  Hartas  to  suggest.  His  '  opal-colour' d  morn  '  is  a  fine 
rendering  of  '  I'Aurore  dun  clair  grivolement '}  But  in  spite 
of  oases  of  picturesqueness  or  felicity  Sylvester's  massive 
volume  is  a  desert  waste  of  cacophony  and  uncouth  expression. 
Here  is  a  characteristic  extract  describing  the  end  of  the 
world,  which  reproduces  the  French  with  fair  accuracy,  and 
shows  Du  Bartas  and  Sylvester  at  their  mean  level : 

One  day  the  rocks  from  top  to  toe  shall  quiver, 
The  mountains  melt  and  all  in  sunder  shiver : 
The  heavens  shall  rent  for  fear;  the  lowly  fields, 
Puffed  up,  shall  swell  to  huge  and  mighty  hills : 
Rivers  shall  dry  ;    or  if  in  any  flood 
Rest  any  liquor,  it  shall  all  be  blood  : 
The  sea  shall  all  be  fire,  and  on  the  shore 
The  thirsty  whales  with  horrid  noise  shall  roar : 
The  sun  shall  seize  the  black  coach  of  the  moon. 
And  make  it  midnight  when  it  should  be  noon  : 
With  rusty  mask  the  heavens  shall  hide  their  face, 
The  stars  shall  fall,  and  all  away  shall  pass : 
Disorder,  dread,  horror  and  death  shall  come. 
Noise,  storms,  and  darkness  shall  usurp  the  room. 
And  then  the  chief- chief-justice,  venging  wrath 
(Which  here  already  often  threatened  hath) 
Shall  make  a  bonfire  of  this  mighty  ball. 
As  once  he  made  it  a  vast  ocean  all.^ 

1  Cf.  La  Seconde  Se/naitte :  le  second jot(r,  1615  ed.,p.  273.     'Grivole- 
ment '  is  defined  by  Cotgrave  as  '  pecklenesse,  or  a  speckled  colour '. 

^  Sylvester's   translation,    161 3  ed.,   pp.   11-12.      Du   Bartas's  French 
original  runs  thus : 

Un  jour  de  comble  en  fond  les  rochers  crouleront ; 

Les  monts  plus  sourcilleux  de  peur  se  dissoudront ; 

Le  ciel  se  crevera ;    les  plus  basses  campagnes 

Boursoufflees  croistront  en  supcrbes  montagnes : 

Les  fleuves  tariront,  &;  si  dans  quelque  estang 

Keste  encor  quelque  llot,  ce  ne  sera  que  sang. 

La  mer  deviendra  flamme  ;   &  les  seches  balenes, 

Horribles,  mugleront  sur  les  cuites  arenes  : 

En  son  midi  plus  clair  le  iour  s'espaissira : 

Le  ciel  d'un  fer  rouille  sa  face  voilera : 


^ 


346        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

Perhaps   Sylvester  shows  to   better  advantage  in  such  a 
passage  as  this  on  the  plurality  of  worlds  : — 

I'll  ne'er  believe  that  the  arch-architect 

With  all  these  fires  the  heavenly  arches  decked 

Only  for  show,  and  with  these  glistering  shields 

T' amaze  poor  shepherds  watching  in  the  fields. 

I'll  ne'er  believe  that  the  least  flower  that  pranks 

Our  garden  borders,  or  the  common  banks, 

And  the  least  stone  that  in  her  warming  lap, 

Our  kind  nurse  earth  doth  covetously  wrap, 

Hath  some  peculiar  virtue  of  its  own  ; 

And  that  the  glorious  stars  of  heaven  have  none. 

Sylvester  is  seen  at  his  worst  in  the  following  passage,  which 
startled  Drjden  as  a  boy  into  a  spurious  admiration  :— 

But  when  the  winter's  keener  breath  began 
To  crystallise  the  Baltic  Ocean, 
To  glaze  the  lakes,  and  bridle-up  the  floods. 
And  periwig  with  wool  the  baldpate  woods. 
Our  grandsire  shrinking,  gan  to  shake  and  shiver. 
His  teeth  to  chatter,  and  his  beard  to  quiver.^ 

Sylvester  shared  the  poetic  adulation  which  was  from  the 

first  showered  in  England  on    Du  Bartas.      The  efforts  of 

both  Frenchman  and  Englishman  were  praised  wath  the  like 

\  solemn  and  sublime  extravagance.     Gabriel  Harvey  was  early 

in  the  field  with  an  ecstatic  tribute  of  bombastic  laudation. 

Sur  les  astres  plus  clairs  courra  le  bleu  Neptune : 
Phoebus  s'emparera  du  noir  char  de  la  Lune  : 
Les  estoilles  cherront.     Le  desordre,  la  nuict, 
La  frayeur,  le  trespas,  la  tempeste,  le  bruit 
Entreront  en  quartier,  &  Tire  vengeresse 
Du  juge  criniinel,  qui  ia  desja  nous  presse, 
Ne  fera  de  ce  Tout  qu'un  bucher  flamboyant, 
Comme  il  n'en  fit  jadis  qu'un  marest  ondoyant. 

{Seniaine  i  •.Jour  i,  161 5  ed.,  p.  20.) 

*  Dryden  quotes  the  first  four  lines  in  a  dedication  of  his  Spanish 
Friar,  1681,  and  adds  the  comment :  '  I  am  much  deceived  if  this  be  not 
abominable  fustian,  that  is,  thoughts  and  words  ill-sorted'  (Dryden's 
Essays,  ed.  Ker,  i,  p.  247).     The  French  runs — 

Mais  soudain  que  I'Hyver  donne  un  froide  bride 

Aux  fleuves  desbordez  ;   que,  colere,  il  solide 

Le  Baltique  Neptun ;    qu'il  vitre  les  guerets, 

Kt  que  de  floes  de  laine  il  orne  les  forets : 

Nostre  ayeul  se  fait  moindre ;    il  fremit,  il  frissonne, 

II  fait  craquer  ses  dents,  sa  barbe  il  herissonne. 

Du  Bartas,  Semaine  ii  '.Jour  i,  1615  ed.,  pp.  238-9. 


ELIZABETHAN  EULOGY  347 

For  elevation  of  subject  and  majesty  of  verse  Harvey  gave 
Du  Bartas  a  place  beside  Dante.  His  wisdom  excelled  that 
of  the  seven  sages  of  Greece.  Euripides  was  his  inferior. 
Only  '  the  sacred  and  reverend  stile  of  heavenly  divinity 
itself  could  claim  inspiration  superior  to  that  of  this  new 
'  French  Solomon  '.^  But  Harvey's  standard  of  appreciation 
was  nearly  approached  by  abler  pens.  Poets  of  the  highest 
standing,  Spenser,  Daniel,  Drayton,  Lodge,  and  Ben  Jonson 
joined  at  the  outset  in  the  eulogistic  hue  and  cry  after  both  the 
Huguenot  inventor  of  sacred  poetry  and  his  English  satellite. 

Spenser,  who  wrote  while  Du   Bartas  was  yet  alive,  was  1 
comparatively  restrained  in  associating  Du  Bartas  with   Du 
Bellay,  and  in  noting  that  the  Huguenot  poet  was  beginning 

high  to  raise 
His  heavenly  muse,  the  Almighty  to  adore. 

Drayton  declared  that — 

Time  could  work  no  injury  on  the  hallowed  labours  of  the 
divine  song  in  courtly  French, 

Thomas  Lodge,  w^hose  last  literary  labour  was  to  render 
into  English  Goulart's  prose  commentary  on  Du  Bartas 's  epic, 
offers  the  opinion  : 

I  protest  that  Du  Bartas  is  as  much  delightful  as  any  Greek, 
Latin,  or  French  author  that  we  can  light  upon,  who  ever 
hath  bestowed  his  style  and  study  to  speak  of  God  and  his 
works.  Moreover,  I  avow  him  in  the  first  rank  of  writers 
either  ancient  or  modern  that  ever  intermixed  profit  with 
pleasure,  and  whose  everlasting  Genius  discourseth  itself  to 
all  posterity.^ 

More  tuneful  is  William  Browne's  greeting : 
Delightful  Saluste,  whose  all-blessed  lays 
The  shepherds  make  their  hymns  on  holy-days, 
And  truly  say  thou  in  one  week  hast  penn'd 
What  time  may  ever  study,  ne'er  amend.^ 
On  the  appearance  of  Sylvester's  version,  Ben  Jonson  greeted  A 
the  reverend  shade  of  Du  Bartas  in  as  respectful  a  key,  but  he     ' 

'  Gabriel  Harvey's  Works,  ed.  Grosart,  ii.  103. 

^  Lodge  published  in  162 1  A  Leat'iied SitJ/ii/iarie  upoji  i/ie  favioiis  Pooiie 
of]Villia)>i  of  Salustt\loid  of  Bartas.  Translated  out  of  [Goulart's]  French 
by  T.  L.,  D[octor]  l\I[edicus]  P[hysician]  1621,  fol.  The  volume  was 
licensed  for  the  press  March  8,  1620.     It  was  reissued  in  163S. 

'  Browne's  Poems,  ed.  G.  Goodwin  (Muses'  Library),  i.  223. 


348        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

sounded  subsequently  the  only  note  of  adverse  criticism  which 
J  seems  to  have  been  heard  in  Shakespeare's  generation.  Ken 
Jonson  told  Drummond  of  Hawthornden,  when  he  visited  him 
at  Edinburgh,  that  he  thought  Du  Bartas  was  '  not  a  poet,  but 
a  verser,  because  he  wrote  not  fiction  '.^  Jonson  doubtless 
meant  that  the  French  Huguenot  borrowed  his  subject-matter 
from  the  Bible,  and  did  not  invent  it. 

French  poetry,  which  was  'so  generally  applauded  even  of 
the  greatest  and  gravest  of  this  kingdom ',  might  well  stir  pens 
of  smaller  eminence  to  salute — 

These  glorious  works  and  grateful  monuments 

Built  by  Du  Bartas  on  the  Pyrenees. 

The   more   habitual    note  of  pedestrian   admiration  may  be 
gleaned  from  this  sonnet  of  an  Elizabethan  poetaster : — 

Had  golden  Homer  and  great  Maro  kept 

In  envious  silence  their  admired  measures, 

A  thousand  worthies'  worthy  deeds  had  slept, 

They  reft  of  praise,  and  we  of  learned  pleasures. 

But  O  !   what  rich  incomparable  treasures 

Had  the  world  wanted,  had  this  modern  glory, 

Divine  Du  Bartas,  hid  his  heavenly  ceasures, 

vSinging  the  mighty  world's  immortal  story  ? 

O  then  how  deeply  is  our  isle  beholding 

To  Chapman,  and  to  Phaer,  but  yet  much  more 

To  thee,  dear  Sylvester,  for  thus  unfolding 

These  holy  wonders,  hid  from  us  before. 

Those  works  profound  are  yet  profane  ;    but  thine 

Grave,  learned,  deep,  delightful  and  divine.^ 

/     Nearly  a  century  passed  away  before  the  trumpets  of  praise 

'  ceased  to  sound.     Dry  den  in  boyhood  deemed  Du  Bartas  and 

Sylvester  far  greater  poets  than  Spenser,  but  at  a  maturer 

age   he   denounced  them  both  for  '  abominable  fustian  ',  as 

^ '  injudicious  poets,  who  aiming  at  loftiness  ran  easily  into  the 

sweUing  puffy  style  because  it  looked  like  greatness.'  ^     The 

^  Drummond  of  Hawthornden's  Notes  on  Ben  Jonson's  Co?n'ersations, 
Edinburgh,  1831-2,  p.  82. 

^  This  sonnet  is  one  of  many  such  prefixed  to  the  collected  edition  of 
Sylvester's  J)u  luirtas,  1605.  It  is  signed  R.  N.,  doubtless  Richard 
Niccols,  who  brought  out  a  revised  version  of  The  Minor  for  Magistrates 
in  1610.  Chapman  and  Phaer  are  mentioned  in  the  sonnet  as  the  chief 
Elizabethan  translators  of  Homer  and  \'ergil  respectively. 

^  Cf.  note  on  p.  344,  supra. 


nil  HARTAS  AND  SPENSER  349 

poet  Wordsworth  echoed  a  still  more  recent  verdict.     '  Who 
is  there  that  now  reads  the  Creation  of  Du  Hartas  ?     Yet  all 
Europe  once  resounded  with  his  praise ;  he  was  caressed  by  ^ 
kings ;  and  when  his  poem  was  translated  into  our  language 
the  Faery  Queene  faded  before  it.'  ^ 

More   important  than  the  mighty  eruption   of  panegyric 
are  the  traces  which  the  worship  of  Du  Rartas  has  left  on  the 
style  and  theme  of  Elizabethan  poetry.^     Occasional  signs  are 
not  wanting  that  Shakespeare  came  under  his  spell. ^    vSpenser, 
who  was  often  compared  to  his  disadvantage  with  Du  Rartas, 
lightly  echoes  many  of  his  phrases  and  his  double  epithets.  ^ 
The  pseudo-scientific  illustration   is  often  the  same  in  both 
poets.     In  Du  Rartas's  curious  physiological   notes  Spenser 
clearly    sought   hints  of  his   allegorical   description   of  the 
human  body,  the  lodging  of  the  soul  Alma,  which  appears  in 
the  Faerie  Queene  (Rook  II).    Nor  is  some  of  his  description 
of  natural  scenery  easily  freed  of  the  imputation  of  indebted- 
ness.    Du  Bartas  showed  especial  sensitiveness  to  the  song  of 
birds,  and  in  this  regard  there  is  a  curious  adumbration  of  the 
Spenserian  temper.     A  note  which  is  habitual  to  Du  Rartas 
distinguishes  the  lines,  which  Sylvester  renders  thus : 
Arise  betimes,  while  th'  opal-coloured  Morn 
In  golden  pomp  doth  May-day's  door  adorn. 
And  patient  hear  the  all-differing  voices  sweet 
Of  painted  singers,  that  in  groves  do  greet 
Their  love  Bon-jours,  each  in  his  phrase  and  fashion 
From  trembling  perch  uttering  his  earnest  passion.'* 

^  Wordsworth's  Poetry  as  a  Study,  181 5,  in  Prose  Works,  ed.  Grosart, 
1876,  ii,  pp.  111-12. 

"  The  fullest  estimate  of  Du  Bartas's  influence  on  seventeenth-century 
English  poetry  will  be  found  in  7'he  French  Influence  in  English  Litera-"^ 
ture,  by  Alfred  H.  Upham,  Ph.D.,  New  York,  1908,  pp.  145  seq.     Mr.  H. 
Ashton  in  Dtt  Bartas  e?i  Attgieterre,  Paris,  1908,  also  gives  quite  inde- 
pendently a  full  critical  estimate  of  Du  Bartas's  work,  and  describes  the 
place  that  the  French  poet  filled  in  Elizabethan  literary  annals. 
^  See  note  on  p.  337,  supra. 
*  The  French  of  Du  Bartas  runs — 

Leue-toy  de  matin,  &  tandis  que  I'Aurore 
D'un  clair  grivolement  I'huis  d'un  beau  jour  decore 
Escoute  patient  les  discordantes  voix 
De  tant  de  chantres  peints,  qui  donnent  dans  un  bois 
L'aubade  a  leurs  amours,  &  chacun  en  sa  langue 
Perche  sur  un  rameau,  prononce  sa  harangue. 
(Semaine  ii  '.Jour  ii,  pt.  ii,  '  Babylone';  QLuvres,  1615  ed.,  p.  273.) 


350        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

Spenser  aims  at  the  same  effect  with  far  greater  splendour 
and  success  in  the  Faerie  Queciie  (Bk.  II,  Canto  xii.  Ixx-i), 
yet  the  sentiment  of  the  Elizabethan  poet  is  nearly  anticipated 
by  that  of  his  Huguenot  predecessor  : 

Eftsoones  they  heard  a  most  melodious  sound, 
Of  all  that  mote  delight  a  dainty  ear, 
Such  as  at  once  might  not  on  living  ground, 
Save  in  this  Paradise,  be  heard  elsewhere:  .  .  . 
The  joyous  birds,  shrouded  in  cheerful  shade 
Their  notes  unto  the  voice  attempted  sweet ; 
Th'  angelical  soft  trembling  voices  made 
To  th'  instruments  divine  respondence  meet. 

There  is  no  possibility  of  mistaking  the  incitement  w'hich 
Du  Bartas  offered  English  poets  to  deal  with  sacred  topics. 
It  may  be  fairly  said  that  almost  all  the  sacred  poetry  of 
the  last  years  of  Elizabeth  and  the  early  days  of  James 
took  its  cue  from  La  Semaine.  The  satirist.  Hall,  at  the 
extreme  end  of  the  century  described  Du  Bartas  as  '  a 
French  angel  girt  with  bays ',  whose  divine  strain  was  a 
holy  message  to  Englishmen.  Hall  soon  saw  reason  for 
lamenting  that  Parnassus  should  be  transformed  into  a  hill  of 
Zion.  The  allegation  was  held  by  some  of  Hall's  readers  to 
reflect  unfairly  on  '  Bartas's  sweet  Semaines '  and  on  the 
current  efforts  to  bring  the  French  poet's  '  stranger  language 
to  our  vulgar  tongue '.  But  the  new  vogue  of  religious 
rhyming  readily  lent  itself  to  extravagance,  and  Hall  was 
only  warning  the  Huguenot  poet's  admirers  against  excesses. 
Many  of  those,  too,  who  owed  the  inspiration  of  their  sacred 
verse  to  the  French  muse  carried  into  secular  verse  marks  of 
their  study  of  the  French  epic.  Such  a  comment  especially 
applies  to  two  poets  of  the  first  order,  Drayton  and  Donne, 
and  to  three  voluminous  poets  of  a  secondary  rank,  Nicholas 
Breton,  Sir  John  Davies,  and  John  Davies  of  Hereford. 
P'rom  Spenser  to  Milton  proofs  are  abundant  of  the  Im- 
pression which  the  Huguenot's  amplitude  of  topic,  and  his 
curious  striving  after  sublimity  no  less  than  his  religious 
fervour  left  on  serious  English  minds  which  fostered  poetic 
ambitions.  The  Huguenot's  matter  and  manner  find  faithful 
reflection  in  a  mass  of  late  Elizabethan  and  early  Stuart  verse. 


DU  BARTAS  AND  DRAYTON       351 

\\'hcn  Drayton  in  1604  published  his  paraphrase  of  scrip- 
tural story  called  Moyses  in  a  Map  0/ Miracles,  he  dedicated 
it  to  Du  Hartas  and  his  iMiglish  translator,  and  he  frankly 
admitted  that  the  Divine  Week  was  the  source  of  his  inspi- 
ration. Subsequendy  Drayton  revised  this  poem  and  added 
two  others,  one  entitled  Noa/is  Flood,  the  other  David  and 
Goliah.  In  all  the  French  influence  is  strong-.  The  topics 
are  identical  with  those  of  Du  Bartas,  and  if  Drayton  adapts 
and  imitates  rather  than  translates  Du  Bartas's  words,  his 
decasyllabic  couplets  ring  with  Sylvester's  cadence,  while  they 
loyally  expound  Du  Bartas's  cosmic  theories.  Truthfully  did 
Drayton  avow  that  his  '  higher  '  poems  of  the  divine  grace  came 
'  humbly '  to  attend '  the  hallowed  labours  of  that  faithful  muse  ' 
who  '  divinely  '  sang  '  this  All's  creation  '  in  '  courtly  French  '. 

Similar  relations  are  traceable  in  a  pious  poem,  The  Soul's 
Immortal  Croiun,  by  a  facile  lyrist,  Nicholas  Breton ;  in  the 
metaphysical  musings  of  Sir  John  Davies  in  his  Immortality 
of  the  Soul,  and  throughout  the  voluble  religious  tracts  of 
didactic  John  Davies  of  Hereford.  To  these  men  Du  Bartas 
proved  a  false  guide.  John  Davies  of  Hereford  enjoys  an 
unenviable  notoriety  by  his  clumsy  copying  of  the  least 
admirable  tricks  of  Du  Bartas  or  his  translator.  He  duplicates 
prefixes  to  words,  e.  g. '  the  super- supererogatory  works  '.  He 
freely  introduces  compound  epithets  of  singular  aw^kwardness, 
and  he  falls  into  the  grotesque  habit  of  tame  verbal  jingles. 

Thy  blissful-blissless  blessed  body  O 

is  one  of  Davies's  pious  ejaculations.    For  many  of  his  humbler 

English   worshippers  'divine   Du   Bartas'   proved   an    ignis 

fatuus.    Small  profit  did  they  derive  from  his  '  blessed  brains ', 

in  spite  of  their  ecstatic  acknowledgement  that  thence 

Such  works  of  grace  or  graceful  works  did  stream, 
that  '  wit '  could  discover  no  more  authentic  '  celestial  strains  '. 

Virile  Donne's  debt  to  Du  Bartas  is  the  most  interesting 
fact  about  the  French  poet  in  the  history  of  English  poetry. 
Donne  makes  no  avowal  of  dependence  on  Du  Bartas.  He 
pays  him  no  hackneyed  compliments.  The  only  contem- 
porary French  book  which  Donne  familiarly  mentions  in  his 


352        THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS 

letters  in  early  life  is  a  vefy.  different  example  of  French 
poetry.  He  commends  to  a  friend  a  book  of  satires,  the 
popular  work  of  Regnier,  which  came  out  in  Paris  in  1612, 
when  Donne  was  a  visitor  to  that  city.^  Regnier,  a  nephew 
of  Desportes,  and  a  champion  of  Ronsard's  falling  reputation, 
made  his  fame  just  after  the  Elizabethan  period  closed.  As 
a  moral  satirist  in  the  manner  of  Juvenai  and  Horace,  he 
showed  a  keen  insight  into  human  vanities,  adumbrating 
something  of  the  power  of  Moliere.  Satire  on  the  Horatian 
pattern  had  been  recommended  to  French  poets  by  the 
masters  of  the  Pleiade,  and  many  efforts  in  that  direction 
were  made  In  France  from  1560  onwards.^  Vauquelin  de  la 
Fresnaie  circulated  much  satiric  verse  in  manuscript  during 
the  last  thirty  years  of  the  century.  But  he  delayed  publica- 
tion of  his  endeavours  till  1605.  The  authors  of  La  Satire 
Meiiippee  developed  in  1593  a  peculiar  vein  of  irony,  which 
illustrated  the  national  faculty  for  sarcasm.  But  Regnier's 
pen  first  lent  French  satire  poetic  force.  Donne  is  the  only 
Englishman  who  betrayed  interest  in  Regnier's  effort,  and 
EngUsh  satire  in  Donne's  hand  owed  something  to  the  French 
suggestion.  Herein  Donne  was  loyal  to  precedent.  His 
English  predecessor  in  the  satiric  field,  Joseph  Hall,  who 
claimed,  despite  Wyatt's  earlier  experiment,  to  be  the  first 
English  satirist,  acknowledged  obligations  to  an  anonymous 
'  base  French  satire ',  to  whose  identity  there  are  several 
claimants,  as  well  as  to  Persius  and  Ariosto. 

But  whatever  the  measure  of  French  influence  which  is 
to  be  imputed  to  Donne's  satires,  it  is  other  parts  of  his 
work  which  bear  conspicuous  mark  of  French  inspiration. 
Huguenot  sufferings  left  a  deep  impression  on  Donne's  mind. 
Once  he  constructs  a  most  repulsive  simile  out  of  reports  of  the 
tortures  which  Huguenots  endured  in  the  course  of  their  war 

^  Writing  from  Paris  in  1612  to  his  friend  George  Gerrard,  Donne 
wrote  :  '  I  make  shift  to  think  that  I  promised  you  this  book  of  French 
satires.  If  I  did  not,  yet  it  may  have  the  grace  of  acceptation,  both  as  it 
is  a  very  forward  and  early  fruit,  since  it  comes  before  it  was  looked  for, 
and  as  it  comes  from  a  good  root,  which  is  an  importune  desire  to  serve 
you.'     (Gosse's  Life  and  Letters  of  Donne,  1^599,  ii.  10.) 

-  See  Viollet-Le- Due's  L'  Hist  aire  de  la  Satite  en  France  prefixed  to 
Regnier's  CEuvres  Completes,  1853. 


v/ 


DU  BARTAS  AND  DONNE  353 

with  the  Catholics.  The  town  of  vSancerre,  in  the  province  of 
Berry,  not  far  from  Bourges,  in  the  very  centre  of  France, 
was  a  permanent  city  of  refuge  for  Huguenots.  The  city 
won  a  terrible  renown  by  its  heroic  defence  when  it  was 
besieged  by  French  Catholics  in  1573.  The  extraordinary 
ingenuity  with  which  the  inhabitants  reduced  the  pangs 
of  famine  by  turning  to  culinary  uses  not  merely  horses, 
dogs,  and  cats,  but  cattle  hide,  old  parchment,  and  all 
kinds  of  old  leather,  is  described  in  minutest  detail  by  one  of 
the  besieged,  Jean  de  Lery.^  No  besieged  city  of  anticjuity 
was  reckoned  to  have  passed  through  a  comparable  ordeal. 
Donne  graphically  recalls  the  episode  when  he  brutally 
compares  '  the  sweaty  froth '  on  the  brow  of  his  enemy's 
mistress  to 

The  scum,  which,  by  need's  lawless  law 
Enforced,  Sanserra's  starved  men  did  draw 
From  parboiled  shoes  and  boots,  and  all  the  rest 
Which  were  with  any  sovereign  fatness  blest.'- 

The  cited  lines  do  far  more  than  suggest  that  Donne  closely 
studied  Huguenot  fortunes.     They  are  in  Du  Bartas's  least 
attractive  vein,  and  they  strike  a  note  which   is   habitual  to 
Donne's  verse.     The  Huguenot  poet  or  his  English  trans- 
lator was  clearly  one  of  the  influences  at  work  on  Donne's 
somewhat  crabbed  muse.     The  uncouth  metaphor,  the  harsh  | 
epithet,  the  varying  pause  in  the  line,  which  are  characteristic  of 
Donne's  rhyming  decasyllabics,  all  seem  to  mirror  irregularities  1  J 
which  dominate  Du  Bartas's  or  Sylvester's  achievement.     In    '' 
his  early  work  Donne  frequently  touches  in  Du  Bartas's  vein 
on  episodes  of  the  story  of  Creation.     The  metre  is  always 
that  of  Sylvester,  Du  Bartas's  English  translator. 

When  nature  was  most  busy,  the  first  week, 
Swaddling  the  new-born  Earth,  God  seemed  to  like 
That  she  should  sport  herself  sometimes,  and  play. 
To  mingle  and  vary  colours  every  day ; 

^  '  Discours  de  I'extreme  famine,  cherte  de  vivre,  chairs,  et  autres  choses 
non  accoustumees  pour  la  nourriture  de  I'homme,  dont  les  assiegez  dans 
la  ville  de  Sancerre  ont  ete  affligez,'  1574. 

^  Donne's  Poems,  ed.  E.  K.  Chambers  (Muses'  Library),  i.  114. 

LEE  A  a 


354        THE  MESSAGE  OE  THE  HUGUENOTS 

And  then,  as  though  she  could  not  make  enow, 
Himself  his  various  rainbow  did  allow.^ 

As  some  days  are,  at  the  creation,  named 

Before  the  sun,  the  which  framed  days,  was  framed, 

vSo  after  this  sun's  set,  some  show  appears, 

And  orderly  vicissitude  of  years.^ 

As  all  things  were  one  nothing,  dull  and  weak, 

Until  this  raw  disorder'd  heap  did  break, 

And  several  desires  led  parts  away. 

Water  declined  with  earth,  the  air  did  stay, 

Fire  rose,  and  each  from  other  but  untied. 

Themselves  unprison'd  were  and  purified ; 

So  was  love,  first  in  vast  confusion  hid, 

An  unripe  willingness  which  nothing  did, 

A  thirst,  an  appetite  which  had  no  ease. 

That  found  a  want,  but  knew  not  what  would  please.^ 

Donne  clothed  elegies,  eclogues,  divine  poems,  epicedes, 
obsequies,  satires  in  a  garb  barely  distinguishable  from  this 
style  of  Du  Kartas  and  Sylvester.  The  intellectual  texture  of 
Donne's  verse  is  usually  stiffer  and  subtler  than  that  of 
Huguenot  poetry.  Yet  the  so-called  metaphysical  vein, 
which  is  usually  said  to  have  been  inaugurated  in  English 
poetry  by  Donne,  is  entided  to  rank  with  Du  Bartas's 
legacies  to  this  country.  Donne's  '  concordia  discors ', 
his  '  combination  of  dissimilar  images  or  discovery  of 
occult  resemblances  in  things  apparently  unlike  ',  is  anticipated 
by  Du  Bartas.  In  both  poets  '  the  most  heterogeneous  ideas 
are  yoked  by  violence  together  ;  nature  and  art  are  ransacked 
for  illustrations,  comparisons,  and  allusions ;  their  learning 
instructs  and  their  subtility  surprises  '.*  Donne  long  survived 
the  Elizabethan  era,  and  he  helped  to  extend  Du  Bartas's 
influence  to  the  generation  beyond. 

The  proof  of  such  extended  influence  abounds.     One  later 
tribute  to   Du    Bartas's    '  eagle   eye   and   wing '   came    from 

'  Poems,  ed.  E.  K.  Chambers,  Muses'  Library,  ii.  ii6.     'An  Anatomy 

of  the  World.     The  First  Anniversary.' 

^  ibid.,  ii,  p.  127.     'The  Second  Anniversary.' 

■'  il)id.,  ii,  p.  49.     'Letter  to  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon.' 

*  Dr.  Johnson's  Lives  of  the  Poets  (Life  of  Cowley),  ed.  Birkbeck  Hill, 

i.  20. 


DU  BARTAS  AND  IMILTON  355 

Spenser's  disciple,  Pliineas  Fletcher,  in  his  Purple  Island 
(1633),  and  is  an  acknowledgement  of  an  important  source  of 
inspiration.  Nor  was  a  greater  poet  than  Fletcher  free  from 
the  infatuation  to  which  the  Elizabethans  succumbed.  There 
seems  no  reason  to  question  the  tradition  that  the  boy  Milton, 
when  living  with  his  father  in  Bread  Street,  received  in  1618 
from  a  neighbour,  Humphrey  Lownes,  who  was  Sylvester's 
publisher,  a  new  edition  of  tlie  English  version  of  Du  Bartas, 
and  that  the  future  poet  read  it  with  avidity  while  a  boy  of  ten. 
Milton's  juvenile  paraphrase  of  the  Psalms  abounds  in  verbal 
and  metrical  coinage  of  Du  Bartas 's  mint.  Sylvester  could 
hardly  have  improved  on  the  boy  poet's  compound  epithet, 
'  froth -becurled  (head),'  or  on  such  a  couplet  with  its  disyllabic 
weak  endings  as 

Why  fled  the  Ocean  ?    And  why  skipt  the  mountains  ? 
A\'hy  turned  Jordan  from  his  crystal  fountains  ? 

Paradise  Lost  has  been  claimed  as  one  of  the  many  offsprings 
of  La  Seinaine.  There  is  an  undoubted  kinship  between  the 
great  Puritan  epic  and  the  great  Huguenot  epic,  and  although 
the  degree  of  relationship  is  open  to  doubt  and  discussion,  the 
fact  that  marks  of  affinity  are  recognizable  lends  a  singular 
brightness  to  the  poetic  reputation  of  the  Huguenot  Homer.^ 


^  The  chief  work  on  Milton's  debt  to  Du  Bartas  is  Charles  Dunster's 
Coisidcrations  on  Miltofis  Early  Reading  and  the  Prima  Stamina  of  his 
'Paradise  Lost\  London,  1800.     Cf.  Masson's  Life  of  Milton,  i.  89  seq.  - 


A  a  2 


BOOK  VI 

FRENCH  INFLUENCE  ON  ELIZABETHAN 

DRAMA 


The  Foreign  Sources  of  Elizabethan  Drama 

The  poetic  and  literary  aspiration  of  Elizabethan  England 
found  its  final  triumph  in  drama.  It  is  questionable  if,  apart 
from  its  drama,  the  Elizabethan  era,  despite  its  debt  to 
Spenser,  would  rank  with  the  supreme  epochs  of  the  world's 
literary  or  poetic  activity — with  the  epochs  of  Sophocles  or 
\^ergil  or  Tasso  or  Wordsworth  or  Victor  Hugo.  With  its 
drama  the  Elizabethan  era  has  some  title  to  rank  above  all  the 
world's  epochs  of  literary  or  poetic  eminence. 

The  claim  to  precedence  is  mainly  due  to  the  giant  genius 
of  Shakespeare,  but  dramatic  faculty  of  exceptional  intensity, 
however  inferior  to  Shakespeare's,  is  visible  in  Marlowe, 
Webster,  Fletcher,  and  other  of  Shakespeare's  contemporaries. 
The  spirit  of  the  age  at  its  zenith  was  magically  endowed 
with  the  power  of  interpreting  passion  and  humour  in  terms  of 
drama.  Dramatic  endeavour  flourished  from  an  earlier  date 
in  Italy  and  France,  and  was  active  in  both  countries  through 
the  age  of  Elizabeth,  but  the  ultimate  level  of  both  tragic  and 
comic  energy  in  Elizabethan  England  was  never  reached 
in  sixteenth-century  Italy  or  France.  In  Spain  dramatic 
ambition  ran  high  while  the  Elizabethan  fire  was  dying,  and 
there  drama  breathed  something  of  the  versatile  vigour  and 
flexibility  of  the  Elizabethan  outburst,  but  even  the  Spanish 
drama  at  its  apogee— \\\^  drama  of  Lope  de  Vega  and 
Calderon — lacked  the  combined  measure  of  poetry  and 
passion,  humour  and  intellectual  strength,  which  glorified 
the  work  of  Shakespeare.  Yet  in  spite  of  the  pre-eminence 
of  Elizabethan  drama,  which  the  world's  parliament  of  critics 
now  acknowledges,  its  debt  to  foreign  influence  and  foreign 
suggestion  was  hardly  less  than  the  debt  of  Elizabethan  prose 
or  Elizabethan  Ivric. 


2,6o    FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

Elizabethan   drama  was  no  spontaneous  emanation  in  the 
literary  firmament.   Neither  its  tragic,  nor  its  comic,  nor  even  its 
romantic  manifestations  were  of  native  parentage.    The  whole 
/  conception  of  tragedy  was  a  foreign  gift— the  gift  to  modern 
(Europe  of  classical  literature.     Italy  and  France  accepted  the 
revelation    long    before   it    reached   England,  and    England 
learned  from    early  Italian  or  French  experiments  in  tragic 
drama   many    of    the    practical    aptitudes    of  the    classical 
A-creed.     Italian  and  French  comedy  was  of  less  pure  origin. 
^   While  it  traced  its  descent   in    part   to   the   Latin   plays   of 
'\  Plautus  and  Terence,  it  absorbed   in   both  countries  native 
\  elements  of  comic  insight  and  satiric  faculty.     In  the  fifteenth 
and    early   sixteenth   century,  French   comedy   developed  a 
peculiar  briskness,  breadth,  and  pliancy  of  original  texture. 
The  alertness  of  wit  in  French  comic  drama  of  this  period 
owed  little  to  classical  influence  and  was  superior  in  volatility 
to   anything  of  previous   date.      As   the   sixteenth   century 
advanced,  the  pure  classical  example   fused  itself  with  the 
indigenous  gaiety  of  the  nation,  and  there  emerged  a  new 
and   permanent   standard   of  French   comedy.      Before   the 
classical  spirit  had  thoroughly  mingled  with  the  Gallic,  France 
gave  Tudor  England  early  lessons  in  farcical  comedy.     The 
experience  left  traces  on  the  perfected   type  of  Elizabethan 
comedy,  which  also  stood  indebted  to  the  growth  in  France 
of  classical  tendencies.     Other  foreign  influences  wrought  on 
the  final   comic   form   of  Elizabethan    drama.     There   is  no 
ground  to  question  the  substantial  accuracy  of  the  observation 
of  a  critic  of  Elizabethan  drama  in  its  early  days  :  '  Comedies 
I  in  Latin,  French,  Italian,  and  Spanish  have  been  thoroughly 
ransacked  to  furnish  the  playhouses  in  London.'  ^     Yet  among 
these  foreign  stores  the  French   tragedies  and  comedies,  or 
French  versions  of  classical  and  Italian  comedies  and  tragedies 
were  always  the  most  abundant  and  accessible. 

A  notable  modification  of  ancient  orthodoxy  in  the  sphere 
of  tragedy  and  comedy  is  often  reckoned  peculiarly  character- 
istic of  the  Elizabethan  and  notably  of  the  Shakespearean 

1  Gosson's  r/aj's  confiiied  in  Five  Aciions,  1 579. 


FOREIGN  FORM  AND  TOPIC  361 

drama.  Happy  endings  were  allotted  to  dramatic  renderings 
of  poignantly  pathetic  romances,  while  comic  episodes  were 
introduced  into  tragedies.  These  amorphous  develop- 
ments gjiined  admission  early  to  the  Elizabethan  theatre,  to 
the  scandal  of  orthodox  critics.  Sir  Phihp  Sidney,  a  cham- 
pion of  classical  law,  was  especially  scornful  of  his  fellow 
countrymen's  first  attempts  to  '  match  funerals  with  hornpipes '. 
Magnificently  typical  of  the  blending  of  tragedy  with  comedy 
is  the  irruption  of  the  Porter  after  Duncan's  murder  into  the 
tragedy  of  Macbeth.  The  romantic  plot  of  Shakespeare's 
comedy  oi Mitch  Ado  hovers  on  the  brink  of  tragedy.  This 
fusion  of  type  is  an  important  feature  of  English  drama  and 
plays  a  larger  part  there  than  in  any  foreign  literature.  Yet 
such  ambiguous  broadenings  of  the  bases  of  drama  are  no 
English  innovations.  However  superior  Shakespeare's  per- 
formances in  tragicomedy  were  to  anything  that  preceded,  or 
indeed  succeeded  them,  Italians  and  Frenchmen  and  Spaniards 
were  active  in  that  field  before  him  or  at  the  same  time  as 
he.  Endeavours  of  France  and  Italy  in  the  field  of  dramatic 
romance  lay  well  within  Shakespeare's  and  his  fellow  country- 
men's range  of  vision,  and  there  again  P^lizabethan  footsteps 
found  guidance. 

There  is  indeed  no  form  of  dramatic  effort  of  which 
Elizabethan  England,  despite  her  triumphant  handling  of  all, 
can  claim  the  honours  of  the  inventor.  Her  heavy  debts  to 
normal  types  of  classical  tragedy  and  Gallic  or  Italo-Gallic 
farce  or  romance  do  not  exhaust  her  dramatic  obligations 
to  the  foreigner.  The  pastoral  and  masque,  with  its  mytho- 
logical machinery,  were  importations  from  Italy,  and  the 
masque,  as  the  French  form  of  the  word  shows,  grew  up 
under  French  stimulus,  1 

It  was  not  merely  the  dramatic  form  which  came  to  England 
from  abroad.  From  foreign  sources  the  plot  or  subject-matter 
of  tragedy,  comedy,  and  tragicomedy  alike  was  widely  drawn. 
Foreign  novels  were  the  richest  mines  of  fable  for  Elizabethan 
drama,  A  foreign  atmosphere  often  clung  irremovably  to 
the  foreign  story,  and  the  foreign  spirit  of  romantic  intrigue 
coloured  the  foreign  fiction  in  the  Elizabethan  theatre.     The 


I 


362    FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

harvest  of  novels  was  in  Renaissance  days  most  abundant  in 
Italy,  and  there   the   Elizabethan  playwrights  gleaned  their 

(fullest  sheaves.  Handello  told  the  stories  of  Romeo  and  Juliet 
and  l\velfth  Nighty  Cinthio  those  oi  Measiu^e  for  Measure 
and  Othello.  But  France,  true  to  her  role  of  purveyor  of 
culture,  offered  ample  stores  of  '  histoires  tragiques ',  of 
'  plaisantes  nouvelles  ',  of  '  contes  facecieux ' ;  of  these  a 
few^  only  were  homegrown,  the  majority  being  culled  from 
Italian  or  classical  authors  or  even  from  writers  of  less  familiar 

/  race.  From  a  French  cyclopaedia  of  fiction  which  em- 
bodied a  chronicle  of  Danish  history,  England  drew  her  first 

1  knowledge  of  Hamlet's  perplexed  career.  France  rivalled 
Italy  in  the  quantity  and  the  quality  of  the  raw  material  of 
tragedy,  comedy,  and  romance  w^hich  she  provided  for  the 
Elizabethan  stage. 

The  Elizabethan  dramatist  sought  his  theme  not  only  in 
foreign  fiction  but  also  in  foreign  history,  past  and  present. 
Historical  tradition  of  Greece  and  Rome,  of  the  empires 
of  the  East,  of  mediaeval  and  contemporary  Europe,  readily 
served  as  the  plots  of  drama  in  all  countries  which  came 
under  the  sway  of  the  Renaissance.  In  providing  Eng- 
land with  historical  topics  France  again  proved  a  more  valu- 
able ally  than  Italy.  Far  earlier  than  Elizabethan  dramatists, 
French  dramatists  found  themes  for  drama  in  Plutarch's 
Lives  w^iich  offered  an  exhaustive  panorama  of  the  whole 

^  range  of  classical  activity.     France  set  England  the  fashion  of 

/  dramatizing  Plutarch's  histories  of  heroes  of  classical  antiquity. 
The  English  playwrights  bettered  the  French  instruction. 
They  handled  Plutarch's  narrative  in  the  English  version 
with  intensely  dramatic  vigour,  but  the  Elizabethan  translation 
on  which  the  English  dramatists  worked  was  wholly  made 
from  a  masterly  French  rendering  of  Plutarch's  Greek.  The 
Roman  plays  of  Elizabethan  England  rank  with  her  best.  Yet 
they  came  to  birth  at  French  prompting. 

Nor  was  it  merely  episode  of  classical  history  which 
French  example  commended  to  the  Elizabethan  stage. 
Recent  or  contemporary  political  conflict  in  France  was  also 
eagerly  scanned  by  Elizabethan  playwrights  and  was  adapted 


MARLO^^'E^S  reform  of  tragedy         363 

by  them  to  theatrical  uses.  Huguenot  and  iMench  Cathohc 
leaders  were  accepted  heroes  of  l^lizabethan  drama.  Neither 
Marlowe  nor  Shakespeare  disdained  suggestion  from  the 
pending  warfare  of  religious  and  political  factions  in  France, 
while  dramatists  of  the  rank  and  file  drew  thence  a  long  series 
of  dramatic  incident.  Of  many  of  these  topical  efforts  only 
the  name  survives ;  the  text  has  vanished.  The  loss  deserves 
mild  regrets.  For  topical  reviews  of  passing  crises,  whether 
in  tragic  or  comic  vein,  rarely  reach  high  levels  of  dramatic 
art.  vSuch  examples  of  the  topical  Elizabethan  drama  as 
have  escaped  destruction  deal,  however,  with  persons  and 
places  of  contemporary  France  quite  amply  enough  to  attest 
a  widespread  tendency  and  habit  among  both  the  great  and  the 
small  Elizabethan  dramatists.  The  heights,  as  well  as  the  plains, 
of  Elizabethan  drama  are  marked  by  many  French  features. 
France  was  generous  in  her  supply  of  the  threads  of  form  and 
topic  from  which  the  many -coloured  coat  was  woven. 

For  near  a  century  France  was  in  the  van  of  the  dramatic 
movement  of  the  Renaissance,  and  England  for  the  time  was 
content  to  follow  sluggishly  behind  her  neighbour.  Yet  there 
was  promise  of  originality  in  the  Elizabethan  disciples  of  con- 
tinental drama.  He  who  studies  Elizabethan  drama  in  its 
relation  with  French  dramatic  endeavour  finds  his  chief  profit 
in  examining  the  early  stages  of  the  English  movement.  The 
first  steps  of  the  ascent  have  most  in  common  in  the  two 
countries.  The  English  road  is  paved  at  the  outset  with 
many  French  conceptions  and  French  artifices  from  which 
the  region  of  the  summit  is  free. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  eighth  decade  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  Christopher  Marlowe  framed  what,  in  spite  of. 
signs  of  French  afiSnity,  was  largely  a  new  conception  of 
tragedy.  He  imbued  tragic  diction  with  a  new  breadth  and 
warmth  which  gave  Shakespearean  tragedy  an  immediate  cue. 
Until  the  date  of  Marlowe's  advent  the  growth  of  drama 
in  fifteenth-  and  sixteenth-century  France  steadily  antici- 
pated the  development  of  drama  in  England.  Subsequently 
Elizabethan  England  broke  away  from  leading  -  strings 
and   passed    unaccompanied    ahead    of   her    guides.     When 


364    FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

at  a  later  epoch  the  consummated  type  of  Elizabethan 
drama  caught  foreign  attention  it  was  condemned  by  foreign 
observers  as  barbarism.  Even  at  home  her  final  activity 
excited  some  critical  misgivings,  by  reason  of  its  defiance  of 
pre-existing  canons.  A  very  deliberate  effort  was  made  in 
the  heyday  of  the  Elizabethan  movement,  by  Elizabethan 
students  of  French  drama,  to  recall  Elizabethan  drama  to  the 
classical  paths  on  which  Renaissance  France  ultimately  con- 
centrated her  best  energies.  But  the  warning  had  small 
effect,  and  the  Elizabethan  drama  refused  to  abandon  its 
own  independent  lines.  The  links  which  bind  Elizabethan 
drama  with  the  dramatic  efforts  of  the  French  Renaissance 
never  altogether  disappear,  but  they  dwindle  in  significance 
and  substance  as  Elizabethan  drama  approaches  the  final  goal. 
In  a  more  marked  degree  than  other  forms  of  Eliza- 
bethan literature,  the  Elizabethan  drama  acquired  in  its 
progress  to  maturity  a  spirit  of  its  own.  A  fire,  which 
was  undreamt  of  abroad,  flamed  into  life  on  the  Elizabethan 
stage,  and  soared  into  regions  beyond  continental  bounds. 
France  offered  no  parallel  to  the  wealth  of  poetic  colour 
and  the  breadth  of  dramatic  sentiment  Avhich  marked 
Shakespeare's  final  contribution  to  the  dramatic  achievement 
of  Elizabethan  England.  Neither  the  previous  nor  the  con- 
temporary generation  of  French  dramatists  or  of  French 
actors  can  be  credited  with  giving  Shakespeare's  genius  any 
of  its  versatile  touches  of  sublimity.  Shakespeare's  main 
elements  of  greatness — his  insight  into  character,  his  width 
of  outlook,  his  magical  power  of  speech — owe  little  to  French 
inspiration.  None  the  less,  vShakespeare  like  his  fellows 
stands  indebted  to  French  instruction  for  much  of  his  raw 
material,  for  much  of  the  humble  scaffolding  of  his  art. 
Many  of  his  ambitions  were  stimulated  by  French  precedent. 
He  learnt  in  French  schools  juvenile  lessons  in  plot  and 
dialogue.  Italy  was  also  among  his  tutors,  but  there,  too, 
France  lent  him  aid.  Italian  dramatists  rank  high  among 
French  masters,  and  the  French  were  always  ready  to  com- 
municate teaching  which  they  themselves  derived  from  others 
as  well  as  that  of  their  own  invention.     French  imitations  of 


RELIGIOUS  DRAMA  IN  FRANCE  365 

Italian  and  classical  plays  joined  original  French  comedy 
and  tragedy  in  moulding  some  contours  of  Shakespearean 
drama. 


II 

The  Beginnings  of  French  Drama 

Drama  of  the  popular  kind  is  of  greater  antiquity  in  France 
than  in  England.  The  drama  of  Christian  Europe  was  origin- 
ally designed  as  a  complement  of  divine  worship,  as  a  popular 
comment  on  the  liturgy  of  the  Church.  Latin  was  the  first 
vehicle  of  dramatic  expression.  It  seems  doubtful  if  the 
vernacular  languages  were  deemed  capable  of  dramatic  usage 
before  the  twelfth  century.  France  was  the  first  to  enter 
the  field  by  at  least  two  centuries  before  England.  To  the 
beginning  of  the  twelfth  century  belong  two  extant  French 
dramas  of  a  primitive  type,  on  the  subjects  respectively  of/ 
Adam's  fall  and  the  Resurrection.  To  the  thirteenth  century  i 
are  assigned  some  French  specimens  of  dramatized  hagio- 
graphy  as  well  as  a  primitive  pastoral  called  Robin  et  Marion^  \ 
which  seems  to  challenge  the  claim  of  religion  to  mono-" 
polize  the  theme  of  drama.  In  the  (ourteenth  century  the 
miracle  play  in  the  vernacular  was  full-fledged  and  prolific  in 
France.  As  many  as  forty  pieces  portraying  miracles  per- 
formed by  the  Virgin  Mary  are  among  surviving  compositions 
of  that  era.  There  is  no  proof  that  England  attempted  to 
follow  the  French  example  at  any  earlier  date,  and  sparse 
are  the  extant  examples  which  can  be  dated  with  confidence 
before  the  fifteenth  century. 

Through  the  fifteenth  century  there  was  an  active  develop- 
ment of  the  religious  drama  in  the  two  countries  concurrently. 
On  both  sides  of  the  Channel  there  was  an  abundant  harvest 
of  mystery  and  miracle  plays  which  dealt  in  long  cycles  with 
Old  and  New  Testament  history  and  more  detachedly  with 
careers  of  popular  saints.  The  English  ventures  betray 
frequent  signs  of  indebtedness  to  French  effort. 


366    FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

The  primitive  stream  of  sacred  drama  flowed  with  almost  un- 
abated energy  alike  in  France  and  England  down  to  the  middle 
of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  popular  religious  play  bore  only 
rare  and  occasional  traces  in  either  land  of  the  new  influences 
of  the  Renaissance.  But  in  sixteenth-century  France  the  old 
sacred  drama  was  accorded  in  literary  circles  a  recognition 
which  was  denied  it  in  sixteenth-century  England.  In  Eng- 
land of  both  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries  the  miracle  or 
mystery  play  was  cultivated  by  unprofessional  pens  of  anony- 
mous scribes,  and  was  ignored  as  a  fit  theme  of  work  by 
professed  labourers  in  literary  fields.  The  labour  was  accorded 
a  higher  dignity  in  France.  Queen  Margaret  of  Navarre,  in 
spite  of  her  devotion  to  the  New  Learning,  eagerly  courted 
the  popular  dramatic  tradition  of  the  middle  ages  by  penning 
new  mysteries  on  such  topics  as  the  Nativity,  the  Adoration 
of  the  Magi,  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents,  and  the  flight  of 
1  the  Holy  Family  into  Egypt.  The  religious  play  of  mediaeval 
France  was  not  only  of  earlier  birth  than  that  of  mediaeval 
England,  but  literary  ability  was  moved  in  the  early  days  of 
the  French  Renaissance  to  make  the  endeavour  to  prolong  its 
life.  As  late  as  1575  a  French  poet,  who  had  drunk  deep  of 
the  classical  scholarship  of  the  Renaissance,  was  urging  on 
proficient  dramatists,  in  a  treatise  on  the  art  of  poetry,  the 
propriety  of  finding  their  tragic  plots  in  the  Old  Testament 
or  in  hagiography  which  — 

'  montre  de  Dieu  les  faits  admirables  au  monde  '.^ 

In  both  France  and  England  the  morality  play  sprang 
immediately  out  of  the  miracle  or  myster)^  and  the  new  type, 
which  was  elder-born  on  French  than  on  English  soil,  rid  the 
popular  drama  to  a  large  extent  of  religious  fetters.  The 
morality  at  first  dealt  with  ethical  problems  on  secular  lines 
of  allegory  or  symbolism.  The  characters  were  personifica- 
tions of  virtues  or  vices.  Surely  and  steadily,  however,  the 
morality  loosened  its  allegorical  bonds  and  escaped  into 
the  ampler  air  of  personal  action  and  experience.  The  moral 
or  edificatory  aim  proved  indeed  readier  of  attainment  in  the 

1  ^  Vauquelin  de  la  Fresnaie,  V Art poctiqice fratiqois,  livre  iii,  S81-904. 


THE  FRENCH  '  MORALITY  '  367 

presentation  of  Individual  men  and  women  than  in  a  procession 
of  allegorical  abstractions.  The  allegorical  scheme  of  the 
morality  easily  gave  way  to  mobile  conventions  of  per- 
sonality. Many  experiences  of  everyday  life  were  seen  to  be 
capable  of  pointing  a  moral  quite  as  effectively  as  allegorical 
pantomime. 

The  French  morality  flourished  in  one  shape  or  another 
from  the  fourteenth  to  the  sixteenth  century.  Seeking  at  an 
early  date  material  in  the  comic  anecdote  or  fabliati^  it 
(juickly  absorbed  the  comic  spirit  which  was  always  indi 
genous  to  France,  and  had  manifested  itself  from  time 
immemorial  in  more  or  less  ribald  exhibitions  of  buffoonery 
by  way  of  public  pastime.  Gaiety  coloured  the  development 
of  the  native  drama.  The  farc^  or  soth'ey  the  dramatic  satire 
ovjyevue^  was  a  fruit  of  an  alliance  between  the  moral  play 
and  the  irresponsible  merriment  of  French  bourgeois  recrea- 
tions. The  term '  morale  comedie  ',  which  was  widely  applied  to 
specimens  of  the  popular  French  drama  early  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  marks  a  tendency  of  the  nation's  dramatic  temper.^ 
The  serious  note  was  not  rejected,  but  jest  became  a  need- 
ful environment  and  condiment.  The  precocity,  the  vivacity, 
the  versatility,  which  attach  to  the  manifold  phases  of  the 
French  '  morality ',  bear  witness  to  a  dramatic  instinct  in 
late  mediaeval  and  early  sixteenth-century  France,  to  which 
England  of  the  same  period  offers  no  parallel.^ 

^  Rabelais  describes  a  typical  'morale  comedie'  which  he  says  that  he 
and  his  friends  acted  about  1530,  when  students  at  the  University  of 
Montpellier.  The  piece  was  called  'La  morale  comedie  de  celuy  qui 
avoit  espouse  une  femme  mute'.  The  husband  wished  his  dumb  wife 
to  speak.  A  physician  and  a  surgeon  are  summoned,  and  by  a  simple 
operation  give  the  woman  the  power  of  speech.  The  cure  proves  so 
efficient  and  the  wife  grows  so  garrulous  that  the  husband  seeks  medical 
advice  for  the  purpose  of  restraining  her  volubility.  But  here  medicine 
and  surgery  are  baffled.  The  only  palliation  they  can  furnish  is  to  render 
the  husband  deaf.  The  wife's  irritation  with  a  husband  who  cannot  hear 
her  voice  causes  her  to  go  frantically  mad,  while  the  doctor  who  applies 
to  the  deaf  man  for  his  fee  cannot  make  him  understand  his  purpose. 
The  doctor  thereupon  gives  him  a  drug  which  renders  him  imbecile.  At 
the  end  the  insane  couple  set  upon  the  doctor  and  surgeon,  and  nearly 
kill  them.     (Rabelais,  bk-  iii,  ch.  34.) 

^  M.  Petit  de  JuUeville,  in  a  series  of  volumes  entitled  generally  Histoire 
dii  Tlicdtre  en  France  au  inoyeti  age,  gives  an  admirable  description  of  the 


368    FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

It  is  easy  to  illustrate  the  varied  forms  of  the  French 
'  morality  '  from  infancy  to  maturity.  To  the  fourteenth  century 
beloncrs  a  dramatic  rendering-  of  Boccaccio's  tale  of  Griselda, 
the  patient  but  ill-used  wife.  Allegorical  abstractions  are 
absent.  Although  the  sole  aim  is  to  teach  the  lesson  of 
patience,  the  result  is  a  dramatic  romance  in  embryo. 
Dramatic  presentations  in  the  fifteenth  century  of  the  fall 
of  '  Troie  le  grant '  and  of  a  recent  '  vSiege  of  Orleans ' 
illustrate  the  expansiveness  of  the  dramatic  topic  of  the 
age.  But  the  growth  of  the  morality  on  its  comic  side  was 
chiefly  of  significance  for  the  future.  Comedy  in  France  was 
finally  to  win  with  Moliere  a  renown  which  Shakespeare  only 
just  outstrips.  The  blitheness  of  Gallic  wit  was  ultimately 
to  give  French  comedy  a  w^orld-wide  empire.  The  seeds  of 
the  comic  triumph  were  sown  by  the  morality. 

r^  During  the  fifteenth  century  the  '  morality  '  engendered  an 
almost   full-fledged    example    of   the    comic    art    in    Malire 

\Paihelin.  Although  the  Latin  comedy  of  Plautus  was 
known  to  French  mediaeval  scholars,  it  was  not  thence,  it  was 
from  suggestion  nearer  home,  that  the  author  of  Maltre 
Pathelin  drew  his  inspiration.  The  familiar  plot  is  an 
anecdote  of  a  briefless  village  lawyer  who  is  duped  of  his  fees 
by   a  trick  that  he  himself  teaches  a  simple   rustic   client — 

(the  device  of  bleating  like  a  sheep  whenever  an  inconvenient 
question  is  put  to  him.  On  that  slight  foundation  is  reared  a 
little  study  of  character  and  manners  which  has  no  shadow  of 
counterpart  in  England  for  some  one  hundred  and  twenty  years. 

(The  middle-sixteenth  century  Gammer  Gnrtoiis  N^eedle 
is  the  earliest  English  example  of  a  comparable  dramatic 
experiment,  but  the  English  farce  has  little  of  the  comic 
gusto  and  insight  of  its  veteran  French  precursor.  Nor  has 
the  English  piece  the  clear-cut  moral  which  the  old  French 

early  history  of  French  drama.  The  individual  titles  of  the  separate  volumes 
run  :  Les  Mysferes,  2  vols.,  Paris,  1880 ;  Les  Comcdicns  en  France  an  moyen 
Age,  Paris,  1885  ;  La  Coi/ic'die  et  les  /nauos  en  France  au  moyen  Age,  V^.t\%, 
1886;  Repertoire  du  Theatre  comique  en  France  an  inoyen  age,  Paris, 
1 886.  The  same  author's  Le  TheAtre  en  France :  Histoire  de  la  littera- 
tiire  drainatiqice  depuis  ses  origines  jusqttW  fios  jours,  Paris,  1889,  is  a 
useful  summary. 


MA  tTRE  PA  THELIN  369 

farce  had  the  faculty  of  emphasizing  without  prejudice  to  its 
humorous  vivacity.     Maitre  Pathelin  graphically  illustrates  ,JxJ 

the  popular  maxim  of 'the  biter  bit'.  The  popularity  which 
the  piece  acquired  during  the  fifteenth  century  never  deserted  it  • 
in  France.  The  phrase  of  the  judge  '  revenons  a  ses  moutons  ' 
obtained  at  once  proverbial  currency.  Rabelais  echoed  the 
language  of  '  noble  Pathelin  '.  Pasquier,  the  far-famed  critic 
of  the  French  Renaissance,  denied  that  Greece,  Rome,  or 
Italy  had  produced  anything  superior  to  it  in  the  comic  vein.^^ 

Maitye  Pat/ielin,  despite  its  exceptional  fame,  is  no 
isolated  phenomenon  in  the  history  of  French  mediaeval 
drama.  French  mediaeval  drama  owed  most  of  its  future 
influence  to  similar  experiments  in  farce  or  satiric  comedy.  At 
the  end  of  the  fifteenth  and  opening  of  the  sixteenth  century 
the  miracle  and  morality  play  were  still  pursuing  active 
careers,  but  the  most  popular  form  of  dramatic  entertainment 
was  the  farcical  type  known  as  /a  sotiie.  The  true  subject- 
matter  of  the  farce  or  sottye  francoyse,  was,  according  to  an 
early  sixteenth-century  French  writer, '  badinage,  foolery,  and 
everything  that  moves  laughter  and  amusement.'  ^  The  sotiie 
burlesqued  the  opinions  or  conduct  of  prominent  living  persons 
in  church  or  state.  Yet  serious  reflection  and  imaginative  fancy- 
occasionally  diversify  the  theme.  Sometimes  the  sottie  touched 
the  confines  of  social  comedy  and  anticipated  traits  of  Beau- 
marchais's  Le  Mariage  de  Figaro.  The  form  varied.  Not 
infrequently  monologue  sufficed.  '  Un  sermon  joyeux  '  inso- 
lently parodied  the  pious  discourse  of  a  popular  preacher, 
or  a  braggart  soldier  made  bombastic  professions  of  courage 
with  a  humour  of  almost  Falstaffian  breadth.  Dialogue  wasl 
employed  in  energetic  debate  in  which  sharply  contrasted/ 
opinions  w^ere  presented  with  much  point  and  adroitness. 

The  chief  author  of  popular  drama  in  the  early  sixteenth 
century  w^as  the  actor  and  manager,  Pierre  Gringoire.     His 

^  The  farce  oi  Maistre  Pierre  Pathelin  was  printed  for  the  first  time  at 
Lyons  in  14S5.  There  were  at  least  five  editions  before  1 500  and  more 
than  twenty  reprints  in  the  sixteenth  century. 

-  "EiWixXoX,  Art  poctique  (Paris,  1555),  Livre  II,  ch.  viii,  p.  60  :  '  le  vray 
subject  de  la  farce  ou  sottye  frani^oyse  sent  badineries,  nigauderies,  et 
toutes  sorties  esmouvantes  a  ris  et  plaisir.' 

LEE  B    D 


370  FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

facility  and  fertility  knew  no  diminution  through  the  first 
three  decades  of  the  epoch.  His  efforts  took  varied  shapes. 
He  was  an  adept  at  allegory  in  narrative  poetry  as  well  as  in 
the  morality  play  of  the  regular  pattern.  A  mystery  play  on 
the  royal  saint  of  France,  Louis  IX,  came  from  his  versatile 
pen  and  enjoyed  a  wide  vogue.  But  he  won  his  chief  fame 
by  his  insolent  criticism  of  current  life  in  sottie  or  debat. 
On  the  stages  both  of  Paris  and  of  the  provinces  Gringoire 
and  his  allies  discussed  in  dramatic  form  pressing  questions 
of  politics,  religion,  and  ethics.  Social  topics,  especially  the 
disadvantages  of  marriage  or  the  foibles  of  the  fair  sex,  were 
always  welcome  to  author  and  audience.  Personages  of 
classical  mythology  were  introduced  at  times,  and  there  were 
occasional  snatches  of  Latin.  But  the  pieces  had  nothing  in 
common  with  the  method  of  classical  drama.  The  text  was 
/  continuous.  There  were  no  divisions  into  acts  or  scenes, 
\  and  no  limit  w^as  placed  to  the  number  of  speaking  parts. 

Liberty  of  speech  was  in  the  sixteenth  century  a  privilege 

of  popular  drama  in  France,  and  royal  authority  long  forbore 

/   efiective  restraint.     Louis  XII  found  it  useful  in  his  struggle 

with  Pope  Julius  II  to  patronize,  if  not  to  sanction,  dramatic 

satire  of  the  papacy.     For  a  time  Francis  I  raised  no  obstacle 

to  the  frank  and  impartial  treatment  on  the  stage  of  religious 

controversy.    About  1523,  in  a  farce  called  Les  Theologastres^ 

the  orthodox  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne  were  mercilessly  ridiculed 

and  were  represented  as  finally  seeking  the  aid  of  '  Mercure 

d'Allemagne',  a  leader  of  the  Lutheran  Reformation,  in  an 

endeavour  to  rehabilitate  their  worn-out  views.    Shortly  after- 

!  wards  Queen  Margaret  of  Navarre  was  herself  brought  on  the 

,  stage  as  a  Fury  bearing  a  torch  wherewith  to  set  the  kingdom 

I  on  fire.    Foreign  sovereigns,  including  Henry  VIII  and  Queen 

!  Elizabeth,  w^ere  the  more  or  less  comic  heroes  and  heroines 

of  the  dramatic  entertainments  of  the  French  people. 

As  the  years  went  on,  both  central  and  municipal  authorities 

i  found  it  necessary,  on  moral  and  political  grounds,  to  curb  the 

\  growing  licence  of  the  popular  stage.     Danger  was  detected 

\m  the  scurrilous  tendency  of  the  sottie  or  debate  w^hile  the 

\sacred  mjstery   to  which  popular  esteem  obstinately  clung 


THb:  INTERLUDE  IN  ENGLAND  371 

was  held  to  incline  to  blasphemy.  A  decree  prohibiting  the 
religious  drama  in  Paris  was  promulgated  in  1548.  Public  or 
private  performances  of  farces,  comedies,  songs,  or  other 
writings,  which  should  in  any  way  deal  with  sacred  topics  or 
ecclesiastical  personages,  were  repeatedly  forbidden  by  local 
magistracies  through  the  middle  years  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
while  moralities  and  other  pieces  which  were  performed  either 
for  rehgious  purposes  or  for  honest  popular  recreation  were 
proclaimed  to  be  unlawful  unless  they  were  licensed  by  cure 
or  magistrate.  But  these  edicts  were  evaded.  Religious  \ 
themes  were  not  banished.  Mysteries  as  well  as  moralities  | 
still  claimed  a  share  of  public  favour.  The  sottie  and  | 
satiric  revues  flourished  in  spite  of  censorship  through  all 
the  period  of  the  warfare  of  Huguenot  and  Catholic,  and 
blows  were  aimed  from  the  stage  impartially  at  all  the  factions. 
The  steady  growth  of  the  regular  classical  drama  under  the 
influence  of  the  Pleiade  failed  to  change  the  taste  of  the 
general  public.  ' 

In  England  the  progress  of  the  popular  drama  was  very 
sluggish  in  comparison  with  the  activity  of  P>ance.  The 
English  morality  was  far  more  reluctant  than  the  French 
morality  to  transgress  its  original  law  of  allegory.  A  personal 
element  was  by  degrees  grafted  on  the  symbolic  machinery, 
but  the  personifications  of  vice  and  virtue  were  not  displaced. 
The  English  stage  in  the  pre-Shakespearean  era  seemed 
likely  to  stagnate  in  crude  conventions  of  ethical  symbohsm, 
when  French  example  openly  worked  some  tangible  reform. 
The  English  morality  of  the  fifteenth  century-  often  depended 
on  French  suggestion,  but  French  influence  directed  almost 
singlehanded  a  fresh  development  of  popular  English  drama. 
The  Tudor  invention  of  the  interlude  was  no  domestic  evolu-\ 
tion.  It  was  an  undisguised  loan  on  the  comic  activity  of  the  I 
contemporary  P>ench  theatre.  J^ 

At  the  opening  of  the  sixteenth  century,  English  drama 
left  contemporary   life   and  society  out   of  account.     Moral 
allegory  lacked  genuine  dramatic  promise.    John  Heywood, 
a   primitive    Elizabethan,    whose    patriarchal   length   of    life  1 
covers    eighty-three    years   of   the    Tudor    epoch,   deserves 

B  b  2 


372   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

the  credit  of  having  brought  a  ray  of  hght  into  the  dismal 
scene.  He  may  be  reckoned  the  creator  of  the  interlude 
in  England,  the  English  writer  who  struck  the  first  clear 
note  of  comedy.  According  to  Warton  he  was  the  earliest 
English  dramatist  who  '  introduced  representations  of  familiar 
life  and  popular  manners '.  Recent  research  leaves  no  doubt 
that  Heywood  deliberately  sought  inspiration  in  the  sottie  and 
debat  of  contemporary  France.^ 

The  comic  trend  of  the  French  stage  had  previously 
caught  attention  in  England.  The  story  of  Maitre  Paihelin 
was  narrated  in  a  popular  English  jest-book  of  Henry  VIII's 
reign. '-^  French  players  had  performed  at  the  court  of 
Henry  VII,  as  well  as  at  that  of  King  James  IV  of  Scotland.^ 
I  But  Hey  wood's  interludes  are  far  more  substantial  links.  They 
1  are  liberal  adaptations  of  recent  dramatic  essays  in  France. 
Hey  wood's  chief  works  were  satiric  discussions  or  debates 
among  humble  ecclesiastics  and  humble  laymen  on  the  pattern 
of  the  sottie.  The  best  known  is,  perhaps,  that  entitled 
Fotir  P's^  from  the  initials  of  the  four  interlocutors,  a  Palmer 
(or  pilgrim),  a  Pothecary  (or  apothecary),  a  Pardoner, 
and  a  Pedlar.  The  efficacy  of  the  various  processes  of 
salvation  in  which  they  each  have  a  professional  interest,  is 
debated  by  the  Palmer,  the  Pardoner,  and  the  Pothecary, 
and  the  Pedlar  is  summoned  to  decide  which  of  the  three  is 
the  most  extravagant  liar.  Again,  in  Heywood's  Merrie 
Play  betiueeii  the  Pardonner  and  the  Frere,  the  Curate 
ajid  Neybour  Pratte^  the  Friar  preaches  salvation  in  front  of 
a  church,  and  is  interrupted  by  the  Pardoner,  who  displays 

^  '  The  Influence  of  French  farce  upon  the  plays  of  John  Heywood,'  by 
Karl  Young,  in  Modern  Philology^  vol.  ii,  pp.  97-124,  Chicago,  1904. 

*  *  Mery  Tales,  Wittie  Questions,  and  Ouicke  Answeres,'  first  printed 
by  Thomas  Berthelet  about  1535,  narrates  Maitre  Pathelin's  experience 
under  the  heading  '  Of  hym  that  payde  his  dette  with  crienge  bea  '.  See 
Hazlitt's  Shakespeare  Jest-books.,  1864,  p.  60. 

^  The  account  books  of  Henry  Vll's  household  show  payments  to  'the 
Frenche  pleyers'  of  i/.  on  January  6,  1494,  and  of  2/.  on  January  4,  1495. 
The  Scottish  Exchequer  Rolls  note  that  on  July  23,  1494,  the  king  enter- 
\  tained  French  players  at  Dundee.  Sir  David  Lyndsay's  dramatic  '  Satyfe 
of  the  three  estaitis',  which  was  performed  in  the  open  air  at  Cupar  in 
I535>  'irid  at  Edinburgh  in  1540,  betrays  the  influence  of  contemporary 
French  drama.  Cf.  Petit  de  Julleville's  La  CoDiedie  et  les  Ma-itrs  de 
France  ait  Moyen  Age  (1866),  Chap,  v, .'  Satire  des  Divers  Etats.' 


HEYWOOD'S  FRENCH  ADAPTATIONS        373 

his  relics.  After  rallying  each  other  with  much  briskness, 
they  fight,  until  they  are  separated  by  the  curate  and  a 
neighbouring  villager,  named  Pratt. 

Both  these  interludes  are  cast  in  the  French  mould,  and 
clearly  borrow  much  from  a  popular  French  sottie^  Farce 
iionvelle  d'lin  Pardonneiw,  d'lni  Triadeur,  et  d'nne  Taver- 
iiiere.  The  French  Pardoner,  laden  with  relics,  orates 
bombastically  in  a  market-place  on  the  spiritual  efficacy  of 
his  wares.  The  Tn'ackiir,  or  travelling  apothecary,  commends 
his  drugs  with  like  assurance.  They  abuse  and  ridicule  each 
other,  but  are  reconciled  by  the  suggestion  that  they  should 
visit  a  fair  tavern-keeper  in  company. 

A  French  source,  is,  too,  responsible  for  Heywood's 
dramatization  of  a  homely  anecdote  or  fable  in  the  Merry 
Play  betiveen  Johan  the  Hiisbande,  Tyb  the  zuife,  and  Sir 
Jhaii  the  Priest.  This  endeavour,  which  was  new  to 
England,  reproduces  a  contemporary  P>ench  interlude  of 
domestic  life,  the  popular  farce  .Z?^  Pernet  qui  va  au  vin. 
In  both  EngHsh  and  French  works  a  sharp-watted  farmer's 
wife  contrives  to  invite  a  secret  lover  to  dinner  and  to  keep 
her  dense-witted  husband  from  the  dinner  table  by  sending 
him  on  a  derisive  errand.  The  French  husband  is  bidden 
fetch  some  wine  and  also  melt  a  piece  of  wax  before  joining 
the  feast.  The  Enghsh  husband  is  bidden  fetch  water  in 
a  leaky  pail  and  is  given  wax  wherewith  to  patch  the  leak. 
In  both  cases  a  meat-pie,  or  pdtc,  forms  the  meal,  and  is  eaten 
by  the  wife  and  her  paramour  before  the  husband  completes 
his  task.  The  identity  of  temper  may  be  gauged  by  a  com- 
parison of  the  husband's  complaint  of  the  business  with  the 
wax  in  the  two  versions  : 

John.  Pernet. 

Mary,  I  chafe  the  waxe  here,  Me  faut-il  done  chauffer  le  cire 

And  I  ymagyn  to  make  you  good      Tandisque  vous  banqueterez .' 

chere  Corbieu,  j'en  suis  marry  : 

That  a  vengaunce  take  you  both  as      Je  crois  ce  paste  est  bon. 

ye  sit, 
For  I  know  well  I  shall  not  ete  a  byt. 
But  yet  in  feyth  yf  I  might  ete  one 

morsell 
I  wolde  thynk  the  matter  went  very 

well. 


374   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

Again,  Heywood's  dialogue,  Of  ivit  and  folly^  a  quasi- 
dramatic  dialogue  or  debat  between  the  wise  man  and  the 
fool  as  to  which  lives  the  better  lifC;  resembles  a  French 
Dialogue  dnfol  ci  dn  sage.  The  French  '  Dialogue  ',  which 
is  a  typical  example  of  the  debat,  is  believed  to  have  been 
performed  at  the  court  of  King  Louis  XII,  who  was  hus- 
band of  Henry  VIII's  sister,  Mary.  At  the  close  Heywood's 
adaptation  travels  somewhat  beyond  the  French  text.  The 
English  writer  is  faithful  to  French  guidance  in  allowing  the 
victory  to  the  fool  through  the  chief  bouts  of  the  encounter, 
but  Heywood  diverges  from  the  French  path  in  an  original 
peroration  which  finally  establishes  the  wise  man's  pre- 
dominance. 

Heywood's  metre  and  sentiment  are  loyal  to  the  sottie.    The 
octosyllabic  couplets  which  Heywood  chiefly,  but  not  invariably, 
uses  is  the  habitual  metre  of  the  French.     The  cut  and  thrust 
of  the  burlesque  dialectic  is  almost  identical  in  temper,  and 
at  times  in  phrase,  in  English  and  French.     Heywood's  chop- 
logic  adumbrates  that  rough  and  tumble  interchange  of  wit 
^  which  is  echoed  by  the  clowns  and  serving-men  of  the  perfected 
^Elizabethan  drama.    Autolycus,  the  cheapjack  pedlar,  is  in  the 
line  of  succession.     The  stock  comes  of  the  sottie  or  debat. 
Heywood's  crude  efforts  were    popular  and   exerted  much 
influence  on  one  side  of  the  coming  dramatic  development, 
r'^'^^ey wood's  introduction  of  the  French  debat  into  English 
I  literature  was  bearing  English  fruit  when  Shakespeare  was 
beginning  his   professional  career.     The  dramatist  and   ro- 
mance writer,   Robert    Greene,    Shakespeare's    early   foe   of 
the  theatre,  took  the  trouble  to  translate  as  late  as  1587  one 
of  the  most  finished  specimens  of  this  rudimentary  manner  of 
drama.    At  the  end  of  Greene's  romance,  called  TJie  Cazdc-of 
Faiicie,  figures  a  prose  piece  entitled  '  The  debate  between 
Follie  and  Loue.      Translated   out  of  French  '.      This  is  a 

(literal  rendering,  with  abbreviations,  of  a  quasi-dramatic,  half- 
comic,  half-pathetic  dialogue  by  Louise  Lahe,  in  which  the 
mediaeval  form  and  naivete  are  touched,  with  an  exceptional 
deftness,  by  the  classical  erudition  of  the  Renaissance.  The 
authoress  was  the  most  gifted  and  impassioned  of  all  poetesses 


I  ROBERT  GREENE'S  Z>/i^^/ r  375 

of  the  early  French  Renaissance.  She  was  a  native  and  resident 
of  Lyons,  and,  being  the  daughter  and  wife  of  rope-makers,  is 
known  to  Hterary  history  as  La  Helle  Cordiere.  Her  name  has 
never  lacked  honour  in  her  birthplace.  There  has  always  been 
a  street  in  Lyons  known  as  La  rue  de  la  Belle  Cordiere.  Louise 
Labe's  sonnets  strike  a  curiously  poignant  note  of  despairing 
love.  In  her  Dcbat  de  Folie  et  cV Amour ^  she  treats  the 
passion  more  lightly.  There  are  six  interlocutors,  Folly, 
Love,  Venus,  Apollo,  Jupiter,  and  Mercury.  The  argument 
runs  thus :— Jupiter  is  giving  a  great  feast  to  the  gods. 
Folly  and  Love  are  among  the  invited  guests,  and  dispute 
as  to  their  precedence.  Folly  pushes  Love  aside  and  claims 
the  first  place,  whereupon  'they  enter  into  disputation  of 
their  power,  dignity,  and  superiority '.  The  dispute  waxes 
amusingly  warm,  when  Love  shoots  an  arrow  at  Folly. 
Love's  rival  avoids  the  aim  by  becoming  invisible,  but 
manages  to  deprive  his  enemy  of  his  eyes,  an  action  of 
which  Love's  mother,  Venus,  complains  to  Jupiter.  There- 
upon the  royal  god  appoints  Apollo  and  Mercury  to 
plead  before  him  the  causes  of  the  two  combatants,  and 
after  hearing  the  long  arguments  he  postpones  his  deci- 
sion until  '  3  times  7  and  nine  ages  be  passed '.  Meanwhile 
the  disputants  are  to  live  in  friendship  together.  Folly 
is  to  act  as  guide  to  blind  Love,  and  Jupiter  undertakes  to 
invite  the  Fates  to  restore  Love's  sight.  Greene  reduces 
the  five  '  discours  ',  or  scenes,  of  Labe's  original  to  three ;  he 
omits  some  of  the  French  speeches  and  shortens  others.  But 
the  dialectical  fancy  of  the  French  authoress  is  unimpaired. 
Heywood  was  hardly  quite  so  loyal  to  his  French  tutors' 
ingenious  turns  of  thought.  The  tribute  paid  by  Shakespeare's 
contemporary,  Greene,  to  La  Belle  Cordiere's  experiment  in 
the  old  dramatic  genre  of  the  debat  is  a  curious  illustration 
of  the  wide  and  active  sympathy  between  French  and  English 
dramatic  endeavour  at  the  date  of  Shakespeare's  entry  into 
the  literary  arena. 


376   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

III 

The  Growth  of  the  Theatre  in  France  and  England 

There  is  another  feature  in  the  dramatic  history  of  France 
which  bears  witness  to  the  precocity  of  the  nation's  sym- 
pathy with  drama.  The  French  theatre  was  formally  organized 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  the  organization,  though  it  underwent 
development  with  the  rise  of  new  conditions,  knew  no  disrup- 
tion between  its  birth  and  our  own  time.  The  stage  of  the 
French  Renaissance  was  a  mediaeval  institution.  The  play- 
house of  sixteenth-century  Paris  was  no  innovation  ;  it  was 
a   survival   of  mediaeval    dramatic  ambition.      No   contrast 

tis  of  greater  significance  than  the  differences  in  date  and 
circumstance  between  the  first  establishment  of  a  theatre  in 
the  French  capital  and  in  London, 
From  the  fourteenth  century  there  flourished  in  Paris  as 
many  as  three  guilds  or  brotherhoods  whose  aim  was  the 
organization  of  dramatic  performances  for  purposes  of  either 
edification  or  amusement.  These  dramatic  societies  enjoyed 
the  dignity  of  legal  incorporation.  The  earliest  and  most 
important,  Les  Confreres  de  la  Passion.,  was  formed  of 
laymen  of  all  classes,  more  especially  of  the  working  classes. 
Their  original  function  was  to  perform  religious  drama,  but 
v!  they  soon  conquered  wider  dramatic  fields.  Les  Confreres 
'  boasted  a  fixed  habitation  or  theatre  in  Paris  as  early  as 
1402,  when  they  settled  in  the  Hospital  of  St.  Trinite,  near 
the  gate  of  St.  Denis.  There  they  remained  for  137  years. 
In  1539  they  removed  to  the  Hotel  de  Flandres,  in  the  Rue 
des  Vieux  Augustins.  Some  nine  years  later,  when  the 
Hotel  de  Flandres  was  demolished,  they  purchased  the  disused 
Hotel  de  Bourgogne,  in  the  Rue  Mauconseil,  in  the  quartier 
St.  Denis,  and  built  anew  a  rudimentary  theatre  on  its  site.  This 
barn-like  edifice,  which  continued  to  be  known  as  the  Hotel 
de  Bourgogne,  remained  the  head-quarters  of  Z^v9  Confreres 
till  the  old  fraternity  was  dissolved  by  royal  edict  in  \6if)} 

^  M.  Eugene  Rigal's  Le  Theatre  fraiK^ais  avant  la  Periode  Classiqtie, 
1901,  is  the  chief  authority  ;  his  bibliography  is  very  useful. 


ACTORS'  CORPORATIONS  IN  FRANCE       377 

Through  the  middle  years  of  the  sixteenth  century  acting 
rapidly  developed  into  a  profession,  and  the  constitution  of 
the  amateur  fraternity  was  modified.  After  1598  the  brother- 
hood merely  fulfilled  the  passive  functions  of  proprietors  of 
their  theatre,  which  they  leased  out  to  well-organized  pro- 
fessional companies  of  actors.  Yet  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne,  for 
all  the  changes  in  its  control,  is  a  sturdy  material  link  between 
the  old  and  the  new  drama  of  France,  and  symbolizes  its  con- 
tinuity of  life.  The  influence  of  Les  Confreres  de  la  Passio7i 
spread  beyond  Paris.  Provincial  imitators  formed  themselves 
into  local  corporations,  and  at  Angers,  Bourges,  Metz,  Orleans, 
Poitiers,  Rouen,  Saumur,  Tours,  and  Troyes  there  flourished 
similar  dramatic  organizations  before,  during  and  after  the 
period  of  the  French  Renaissance.  The  machinery  of  the 
theatre  was  from  the  first  elaborate  among  Les  Confreres. 
Scenery  and  costume  were  invariable  features  of  the  organized 
presentations  of  mysteries.  The  stage  was  long,  deep, 
and  high  and  capable  of  divisions  into  compartments.  In  the 
early  days  the  various  scenes  were  set  up  in  three  tiers  or 
platforms  which  were  known  as  '  mansions '.  The  actors 
passed  from  '  mansion  '  to  '  mansion  ',  from  scene  to  scene,  as 
the  evolution  of  the  drama  required.  This  scenic  device  out- 
lived the  mediaeval  era.  In  the  sixteenth  century  it  developecf  | 
into  the  system  of '  le  decor  simultane  '.  There  two  or  three ! 
different  scenes — for  example,  a  palace,  a  prison,  a  landscape! 
or  a  seascape — were  painted  side  by  side  on  the  same  canvas 
which  hung  round  the  stage  semicircularly.  The  actors  took 
their  stand  in  front  of  one  scenic  background  after  another 
in  accordance  with  the  progress  of  the  dramatic  action 
Scenery  in  one  crude  shape  or  other  was  aUvays  a  character 
istic  of  the  French  stage. 

The  second  mediaeval  amateur  dramatic  society  of  Paris 
which  received  legal  recognition  was  drawn  originally  from 
the  upper  classes,  but  soon  attached  to  itself  a  full- 
fledged  band  of  professional  supporters.  This  society  was 
called  Les  Enfants  sans  Soucj\  or  Les  Sots.  Its  role 
was  frankly  secular  f  it  devotedTts'energies  to  farce — ,  to  the 
sottie^  the    reviie^  and    the   debat.     Les  Enfanis   in    early 


378   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

days  performed  in  the  market  halls  and  squares  of  Paris,  at 
times  under  royal  patronage.  Ultimately  Les  Enfanis  entered 
into  a  working  partnership  with  Les  Confreres  de  la  Passion^ 
^  and  were  often  to  be  seen  at  first  at  the  Hotel  de  la  Trinite 
and  later  at  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne.  Early  in  the  sixteenth 
century  the  dramatist  and  poet  Gringoire  became  manager 
and  leading  actor  of  Les  Enfanis^  and  under  his  command 
rthe  fraternity  perfected  its  professional  organization.  A  third 
/mediaeval  dramatic  corporation  was  formed  of  amateurs  who 
1  were  invariably  lawyers.  Les  Clercs  de  la  Basoche,  as  this 
legal-dramatic  society  was  called,  was  formally  authorized  to 
produce  moralities,  and  gave  their  chief  dramatic  performances 
in  the  hall  of  the  Palais  de  Justice  but  occasionally  acted  in 
private  houses.  This  legal  brotherhood  of  the  theatre  lasted 
in  name  till  the  French  Revolution,  but  its  histrionic  activity 
ceased  early  in  the  sixteenth  century.  Thenceforth,  for  the 
best  part  of  a  hundred  years,  Paris  mainly  depended  for  its 
public  theatrical  recreation  on  Les  Confreres  and  Les  Eiifants^^ 
^  who  lost  by  degrees  all  relics  of  their  amateur  origin,  and 
\  grew  indistinguishable  from  companies  of  professional  actors. 
The  professional  tendency  of  the  old  theatrical  organization 
expanded  steadily.  Independent  companies  of  professional 
players,  which  emerged  from  the  ranks  of  the  mediaeval  dra- 
matic corporations,  wandered  about  the  country,  performing 
in  municipal  halls  or  in  noblemen's  mansions.  The  masters 
of  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne  regarded  the  strolling  actors  as 
trespassers  on  their  rights,  and  sought  to  shut  the  gates  of 
Paris  upon  them.  But  the  strollers  flourished  in  the  provinces, 
and  in  spite  of  the  official  opposition  secured  some  foothold 
even  in  the  metropolis.  Travelling  companies  seem  from  the 
first  to  have  been  formed  in  Paris;  they  invariably  started 
their  provincial  tours  from  the  capital  city,  and  journeyed 
back  by  well-marked  circuits.  In  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth 
century  the  official  prejudice  against  the  wandering  troops 
was  powerful  everywhere.  But  their  popularity  at  large  was 
increasing,  and  the  official  hostility  lost  its  practical  effect. 
Every  town  of  importance  came  to  be  visited  in  a  more  or 
less  regular  sequence,  and  the  tours  not  infrequently  extended 


THE  RISli  OF  THE  PROFIiSSIONAL  ACTOR    379 

I  beyond  France.  French  companies  made  their  way  into 
Holland,  Germany,  Piedmont,  and  even  vSpain,  Denmark,  and 
Sweden.  At  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century  performances 
by  French  players  were  regular  features  of  the  great  annual 
fair  at  Frankfort-on-Main,  On  occasion  they  were  welcomed 
to  the  Imperial  court  at  Ratisbon.  The  development  of  the 
touring  companies  in  sixteenth-century  France,  in  the  face  of 
oflScial  prohibition,  was  fruit  of  the  fascination  which  the 
drama  exerted  on  the  people.  The  hold  of  the  stage  on 
public  taste  was  never  destined  to  lose  its  strength. 

Cultured  influences  supported  the  dramatic  advance, 
working  through  somewhat  different  agencies.  In  the  early! 
days  of  the  Renaissance  a  predilection  for  amateur  acting 
was  encouraged  at  court,  at  the  universities,  colleges,  and 
schools.  Many  subsidiary  centres  of  histrionic  activity  thus 
came  into  being.  At  all  the  great  educational  establishments 
of  France,  notably  at  the  College  de  Guienne  in  Bordeaux, 
and  at  the  College  de  Boncourt,  the  College  de  Navarre  and 
the  College  d'Harcourt  in  Paris,  plays  were  regularly  per- 
formed in  halls  fitted  up  for  the  purpose.  Especially  was 
the  new  classical  drama  of  the  Renaissance  welcomed  there. 
Scholars  often  gave  dramatic  performances  in  royal  palaces 
or  noblemen's  '  hotels  '.  The  Hotel  de  Reims,  the  residence 
of  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  was  frequently  put  to  such  uses. 
Servants  in  the  royal  households  at  times  took  part  in  these 
entertainments.  The  growth  of  professional  companies  in 
Paris  and  the  country,  the  academic  organization  of  amateur 
acting,  and  the  patronage  of  kings  and  noblemen,  whose  ser- 
vants were  suffered  to  practise  the  histrionic  art, — all  helped  to 
extend  general  interest  in  the  drama,  and  to  hasten  the  recon- 
struction of  the  mediaeval  theatre  of  France  on  modern  lines. 

In  1598,  when  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne  was  permanently 
leased  to  a  professional  company  whose  experience  had  been 
gained  in  provincial  tours,  the  dying  tradition  of  me- 
diaeval amateurism  was  banished  for  ever  from  the  national 
theatre.  Contrary  to  expectation,  the  complete  installation 
of  the  professional  actor  on  the  national  stage  gave  the 
death-blow-^  the  mediaeval  spirit  of  drama  which  the  old 


380    FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

fraternities  had  fostered.  The  new  control  reinforced  the  dra- 
matic influences  of  the  Renaissance,  which  had  for  a  generation 
dominated  academic  circles  and  the  higher  social  ranks.  The 
classical  drama  enjoyed  a  freer  scope  for  development  and 
acquired  a  larger  popularity  after  the  French  theatre  was 
permanently  organized  on  wholly  professional  lines. 
^  The  organization  of  the  Elizabethan  theatre  and  of  the 
acting  profession  in  Elizabethan  England  was  no  less  mo- 
mentous a  factor  in  the  development  of  Elizabethan  drama, 
but  the  Elizabethan  theatre  was  late-born  as  compared  with 
France,  and  had  fewer  hnks  with  the  past.  The  art  of  acting 
was  far  better  and  more  widely  organized  in  France  during  the 
Middle  Ages  than  in  mediaeval  England.  There  were  no 
actors'  guilds  in  England  during  the  fifteenth  century  of  the 
organized  strength  or  national  authority  of  Les  Confyeres, 
Les  Eiifants,  or  Les  Clercs.  The  histrionic  art  spread 
more  readily  in  noble,  academic,  and  legal  circles  under 
French  than  under  English  skies.  Only  during  Shake- 
speare's boyhood  did  the  tide  of  histrionic  activity  flow 
strongly  enough  in  I^ngland  to  draw  Elizabethan  noblemen, 
lawyers,  and  university  tutors  into  its  current.  That  flood 
was  anticipated  in  France  by  more  than  a  generation.  The 
'  profession  '  of  actor  was  born  in  France  under  the  auspices 
of  the  ancient  brotherhoods  at  least  half  a  century  before 
anything  was  heard  of  the  acting  vocation  in  England.  The 
constant  intercourse  between  French  and  English  society 
suggests  that  the  veteran  histrionic  traditions  of  France 
offered  their  stimulus  to  the  Elizabethan  innovation. 
^  The  assignment  of  a  special  building  to  theatrical  purposes 
\  preceded  in  France  the  evolution  of  the  professional  actor. 
The  distinctive  theatrical  edifice  was  a  fruit  in  that  country 
of  mediaeval  amateur  effort,  of  amateur  effort  of  the  four- 
teenth century,  which  only  acquired  a  professional  status 
in  the  sixteenth  century.  The  English  theatre  was  in- 
augurated later  and  under  different  auspices.  It  was  only 
I  during  the  last  quarter  of  the  sixteenth  century  that  a 
theatre  was  first  built  in  England,  and  the  step  was 
I  taken   at    the    instance    of  her   earliest    professional  actors. 


THE  BIRTH  OF  FRENCH  TRAGEDY  381 

The  sequence  in  which  the  profession  of  acting  and  the 
theatre  came  into  being  in  England  reversed  the  order  of  the 
older  experience  of  France.  But  such  a  discrepancy  is  im- 
material to  the  main  issues  of  English  indebtedness.  James' 
Burbage,  the  promoter  of  the  first  regular  acting  company 
in  England,  built,  in  1576,  the  first  English  playhouse  in  the 
Finsbury  fields  to  the  north-east  of  London.  He  was  thus 
creating  very  modestly  and  tentatively  an  institution,  which 
an  amateur  society  had  not  only  inaugurated  on  a  far  more 
imposing  scale  at  the  Hospital  de  la  Trinite  in  Paris  nearly 
two  centuries  before,  but  had  throughout  that  long  period 
maintained  with  a  steadily  increasing  vogue.  The  seed  sown  by 
Burbage's  theatre  rapidly  fructified  in  the  English  metropolis, 
and  before  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century  there  were  in  or 
near  London  six  definitely  organized  theatres.  But  to  none 
of  the  London  buildings  attached  the  venerable  traditions 
which  clung  to  the  Parisian  theatre  of  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne. 

IV 

The  Classical  Drama  of  the  French  Renaissance 

If  the  comic  spirit  in  a  primitive  stage  of  strength  was  well  f 
alive  in  France  in  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  the 
tragic  spirit  was  still  unborn,  nor  had  comedy  of  intrigue  or 
romance  given  coherent  signs  of  life.  French  tragedy,  which _ 
blossomed  in  the  last  epoch  of  the  P'rench  Renaissance, 
was  the  child  of  Greek  and  Latin  parents,  and  grew  up 
under  the  tutelage  of  classical  scholarship.  In  Italy  the 
development  of  dramatic  art  in  all  directions  anticipated 
that  in  France  by  many  years,  and  Italian  example  played 
an  important  part  in  exciting  French  interest  in  the  classical 
conceptions  which  dominated  the  new  birth  of  PVench  drama,^ 

^  As  early  as  the  fourteenth  century  classical  drama  was  studied  and 
imitated  in  Italy.  To  that  era  belong  two  original  Latin  tragedies  on 
the  Senecan  model,  Ecerinis  and  Achilleis,  by  Albertino  Mussato  of 
Padua.  In  the  fifteenth  century  Seneca's  tragedies  and  some  contem- 
porary imitations  were  frequently  acted.  Italian  visitors  to  France  early 
in  the  sixteenth  century  continued  to  press  the  classical  drama  on  French 
notice.     The  elder  Scaliger  translated  Sophocles'  Oedipus  Rex  into  Latin, 


382   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

From  the  fifteenth  century  onwards,  there  was  much  study 
by  Frenchmen  of  Seneca's  Latin  adaptation  of  Greek  drama, 
which  exaggerated  the  declamatory  temper  of  the  Greek  and 
favoured  sensational  situations.  Early  in  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury Greek  tragedy  was  disclosed  in  its  original  purity  to 
scholars  throughout  France,  and  direct  translations  into 
French  were  among  the  first-fruits  of  the  revival  of  classical 
learning,  Lazare  de  Baif,  the  father  of  Ronsard's  ally,  Jean 
Antoine  de  Baif,  rendered  from  the  Greek  Sophocles'  Electra 
and  Euripides'  Hecuba  line  by  line,  in  1537  and  1544  respec- 
tively. Before  the  half  century  closed  Hecuba  was  retrans- 
lated by  another  pen,  and  Euripides'  Iphigeneia  was  added 
to  the  list  of  French  versions  of  Greek  tragedy. 

Academic   energy   largely   stimulated    the    new  dramatic 
development.     In  French  universities  Greek   drama    awoke 
vast  enthusiasm.     Plays  were  often  acted  by  the  students  in 
the   original   tongue.     One   or  two  college  professors  went 
a  step  beyond  translating  the  Greek.     From   adapting  the 
Greek  texts  to  their  pupils'  histrionic  capacities,  they  easily 
passed  to  writing  original  Latin  tragedies   on  the  classical 
pattern  for  their  students  to  act.     In  this  important  develop- 
ment professors  at  the  College  de  Guienne  at  Bordeaux  bore 
a  distinguished  part.     Latin  tragedies  were  penned  there  by  a 
Scottish  teacher,  George  Buchanan,  and  by  a  colleague,  Marc 
Antoine  Muret,  the  professor   of  Latin,  who   subsequently 
wrote    in    French    a    commentary   on    Ronsard's   Amours. 
\  Buchanan  achieved   great   fame  by  a  Latin  drama   on  the 
\  biblical  subject  of  Jephthah.      Muret  won  only  a  little  less 
I  renown  by  a  Latin  tragedy  on  the  secular  subject  of  Julius 
I  Caesar's    assassination.      Montaigne   was   a    pupil    of   these 
;  scholars  of  Bordeaux,  and  he  always  recalled  with  pride  how 
he  had  played  leading  roles  in  their  tragic  work. 

Alamanni,  while  at  the  Court  of  Francis  I,  rendered  the  Antigone  into 
Italian.  The  Italian  writer  Trissino  was  the  first  to  pen  an  original  regular 
tragedy  in  any  vernacular  language  of  Europe.  His  Italian  play  of 
Sofonisba  was  written  in  1515.  It  is  in  blank  verse^  and  is  the  archetype 
of  modern  European  tragedy.  His  comedy,  5/w////////  (a  very  liberal 
adaptation  of  Plautus's  Mcnaechmi),  which  was  written  about  the  same 
time,  is  a  notable  landmark  in  the  modern  development  of  vernacular 
comedy.     Shakespeare's  Comedy  0/  Efrors  is  of  its  lineage. 


THE  WAR  ON  THE  POPULAR  DRAMA      3S3 

Meanwhile  classical  comedy  advanced  along  the  same  lines. 
Not  only  the  Latin  comedy  of  Plautus  and  Terence,  but  the 
Greek  comedy  of  Aristophanes,  received  academic  notice. 
While  a  schoolboy  at  the  College  de  Coqueret  in  Paris 
Ronsard  turned  into  French  the  Aristophanic  comedy  of 
Phiiiis^  and  his  version  was  acted  by  himself  and  his  com- 
panions under  the  auspices  of  the  Greek  professor  Dorat. 
The  chief  hero  of  the  Pleiade  thus  began  his  career  with 
a  precocious  act  of  homage  to  Attic  comedy. 

Important  as  these  first  steps  were,  they  ignored  the  living 
language  of  the  country.  It  was  not  till  the  brotherhood  of 
the^  Pleiade  had  formulated  their  national  plea  for  a  literary 
reformation  that  there  arose  in  P^rance  the  novel  and 
revolutionary  conception  of  original  tragedy  and  original 
comedy  in  the  French  language,  on  a  regular  classical 
pattern.  That  conception  was  first  defined  by  Du  Bellay's 
manifesto  of  1549.  Du  Bellay  peremptorily  bade  Frenchmen 
banish  farces  and  moralities  and  put  in  their  place  true 
tragedies  and  comedies  which  should  re-create  in  the  native 
tongue  the  archetypes  of  Greece.^  It  was  at  that  call  that 
French  tragedy,  which  owed  nothing  to  pre-existing  French 
endeavour,  was  born,  and  that  French  comedy,  in  spite  of  its 
absorption  of  a  measure  of  the  old  Gallic  sentiment,  came  to 
acquire  its  modern  shape. 

A  spirit  of  hostility  to  the  old  popular  drama  marked 
the  new  dramatic  aims  of  France.  Workers  in  the 
new  field  of  tragedy  lost  no  opportunity  of  denouncing 
the  mediaeval  aspiration.  The  classical  drama  was  wel- 
comed not  merely  as  an  innovation,  but  as  an  agent  destined 
to  destroy  the  indigenous  mystery  or  morality.  The 
old  popular  drama  was  not,  however,  easy  to  kill.  It  not 
merely  survived  the  classicists'  threats  of  extinction,  but  deve- 
loped in  presence  of  the  enemy  a  new  vitality  and  versatility. 

^  Cf.  Du  Bellay's  La  deffetise  et  illustration  de  la  langite  franqoyse, 
Ek.  II,  ch.  iv,  ad /in.  :  '  Quant  aux  Comedies  et  Tragedies,  si  les  Roys  et 
les  republiques  les  vouloient  restituer  en  leur  ancienne  dignite  qu'ont 
usurpee  les  P'arces  et  Moralitez,  je  seroy'  bien  d'opinion  que  tu  t'y  employ- 
asses,  et  si  tu  le  veux  faire  pour  I'ornement  de  ta  langue,  tu  sgais  ou  tu 
en  dois  trouver  les  Archetypes.' 


384   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

A  desperate  strife  long  waged  between  the  new  dramatic 
development  in   France  and  the  old  theatrical  organization. 
The  new  school  regarded  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne  with  its 
enthusiasm  for  moralities  and    farces  as  a  discredit   to   the 
V  national  reputation.     The  actor  of  the   Hotel  retaliated  by 
imputations  of  dullness  on  the  classical  innovations,  and  the 
,  strolling  companies  fully  shared  the  prejudice,  which  was  rife 
at  head- quarters.   The  new  school  had  small  hope  of  attracting 
the   ordinary  theatre-goer,  and    deemed    the   old   theatrical 
organizations    and    their    unlicensed    touring    offspring    ill- 
qualified  to  present  the  classical  drama.^     Perhaps  the  grapes 
I  were   sour.     At   any  rate   the   party   of  progress   appealed 
exclusively  to  cultured  actors  and  auditors.     They  professed 
to  be  content  if  their  pieces  were  performed  by  students  in 
their  college-halls  or  by  personal  friends  in  private  mansions 
jof  patrons.     The  court  showed  much  interest   in   the  new 
'development,  and  Ronsard's  patron,  King  Charles  IX,  like 
1  his  two   successors   on   the   French   throne,  Henry  III  and 
Henry  IV,  reckoned  plays  of  the  classical  type  among  the 
pastimes  of  royalty.     The  kings  encouraged  members  of  the 
royal  household  to  take  part  in  dramatic  performances.    Queen 
Elizabeth  and  James  I   subsequently  fdled  the  Hke   role  of 

^  There  has  been  much  controversy  as  to  the  relations  subsisting  in  the 
sixteenth  century  between  regular  classical  tragedy  and  the  actors  of  the 
public  theatres.  Le  Journal  du  Theatre  fratigais,  a  manuscript  his- 
tory of  the  French  stage  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  which 
was  drawn  up  in  the  eighteenth  century  and  is  now  in  the  Bibliotheque 
Nationale  (Nos.  9229-9235),  represents  the  classical  drama  as  entering 
into  the  public  programmes  day  by  day  at  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne  along 
with  melodrama,  farce,  morality,  mystery,  and  other  kinds  of  popular 
drama.  There  seems,  however,  little  doubt  that  Le  Journal  is  an  un- 
authentic compilation,  and  deserves  no  confidence.  Le  Journal  is 
attributed  to  the  Chevalier  de  Mouhy,  and  seems  to  form  the  materials 
from  which  he  compiled  Un  abrcge  de  Phistoire  du  theatre  frangais,\\\\\ch 
was  first  published  in  1752  and  reissued,  in  an  expanded  shape,  in  1780. 
Le  Journal  supplies  the  sole  evidence  that  the  sixteenth-century  writers  of 
classical  French  tragedy  were  habitual  clients  of  the  public  theatre,  and 
wrote  their  plays  with  a  view  to  performance  by  the  professional  actors. 
Classical  tragedies  were,  in  all  probability,  produced  only  in  the  royal 
palaces,  noblemen's  houses,  and  college  halls,  where  they  were  acted^  by 
amateurs.  M.  Faguet  in  his  La  Tragedie  Frangaise  au  XVI"'  Steele, 
1897,  accepts  with  reservations  the  guidance  oiLe  Journal.  It  would  seem 
safer  with  M.  Petit  de  JuUeville  to  ignore  it  altogether.  See  E.  Rigal's 
Hardy  et  le  theatre  Jraniais,  p.  688. 


JODELLE'S   PIONEER   DRAMA  385 

sponsors  of  a  new  drama  across  the  channel.  In  both  countries 
royal  favour  did  much  to  encourage  the  dramatic  advance  in 
literary  and  artistic  directions. 

The  Erench  hero  of  the  new  dramatic  development,  Etienne  "^ 
Jodelle,  came  from  the  ranks  of  the  Pleiade.    Although  Jodclle   1 
wrote  much  lyric  verse,  he  alone  of  Ronsard  s  active  lieutenants 
devoted  his  main  energies  to  drama.     His  dramatic  achieve- 
ments were  equally  notable  in  both  tragedy  and  comedy.     He  1 
may  be  reckoned  the  father  alike  of  French  tragedy  and  of/ 
regular  French  comedy.  j 

Jodelle  s  first  dramatic  essay  was  a  tragedy  on  the  subject 
of  Cleopatra,  Queen  of  Egy^pt,  Antony's  paramour.^      The 
piece  was  performed,  in  the  presence  of  Henry  II  and  his 
court,  at  the  College  de  Boncour  in  Paris  in  1553,  and  was 
follow^ed  immediately  before  the  same  assembly  by  a  comedy, . 
Etigene^  also  from  Jodelle  s  pen.     The  author  and  his  literary  1 
Iriends  were  the  actors.     The  enthusiasm  with  which  the  two  ), 
pieces  were  received  was  celebrated  in   triumphal    odes   by 
Baif  and  Ronsard.     Ronsard  greeted  Jodelle  as  the  inventor 
of  French  tragedy  in  the  Greek  manner  as  well  as  of  the  new 
style  of  French  comedy  [CEuvres,  vi,  314) : 

Le  premier  d'une  plainte  hardie 
Fran9oisement  chanta  la  grecque  tragedie, 
Puys,  en  changeant  de  ton,  chanta  devant  nos  rois 
La  jeune  comedie  en  langage  fran^ois. 

After  the  performance  the  author  with  other  members  of 
the  Pleiade,  made  a  far-famed  excursion  to  the  rural  retreat   ' 
of  Arcueil,  and  there  amid  Bacchanalian   revelry  pretended  i 
in  mockery  of  Pagan  rites  to  sacrifice  a  goat,  garlanded  with  / 
roses  and  ivy,  to  the  god  Bacchus.     This  celebration  of  the  \ 
birth  of  classical  drama  on  French  soil  is  an  event  of  supreme 
interest  in  the  annals  of  both  French  and  English  literary 
history.     It  inaugurated  a  new  era.     But  the  ceremony  of 
Arcueil  excited  bitterness  in  the  hearts  ofthe  conductors  of  the 
old  theatre  at  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne  as  well  as  among  the 
Huguenots.  The  dramatic  revolution  was  credited  with  immoral 
tendencv.     Imputation  of  blasphemy  menaced  Jodelle  and  his 

^  The  topic  had  already  been  dramatized  in  Italy. 

LEE  C    C 


386   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

friends.  Against  Jodelle  especially  there  were  levelled  charges 
of  atheism  which  clung  to  him  during  the  rest  of  his  unhappy 
life.  His  chequered  experiences  anticipated  with  singular 
closeness  the  ill-omened  career  of  Marlowe  in  England  during 
the  next  generation,  and  Elizabethan  critics  were  quick  to  urge 
the  parallel.  Certainly  Jodelle  was  of  as  impetuous  a  tempera- 
ment as  any  Elizabethan.  It  was  claimed  for  all  his  works 
that  they  were  improvisations.  He  wrote  according  to  his 
friends'  account  with  the  utmost  rapidity,  '  sans  etude  et  sans 
labeur ' — with  the  haste  which  Ben  Jonson  assigned  to 
Shakespeare.  The  agility  of  Jodelle's  pen  was  currently 
reckoned  without  example  in  the  past  or  present. 

Jodelle's  Cleopdtre^  the  first  French  tragedy,  is  loyal  to 
classical  lines,  but  it  is  no  translation  nor  adaptation  of  any 
pre-existing  classical  drama,  and  betrays  signs  of  original 
interpretation  and  modification  of  the  classical  canons.  The 
author  dramatizes  passages  from  Plutarch's  Life  of  Mark 
\  Antotiy^  and  thus  sets  an  effective  example  to  those  who 
'■■  sought  afterwards  tragic  themes  in  Roman  history.  The 
dependence  on  Plutarch  is  a  prominent  feature  of  the  theatre 
of  the  French  Renaissance.  There  is  little  doubt  that  it  was 
from  France  that  the  habit  spread  to  Elizabethan  England 
in  the  succeeding  era. 

It  is  worth  noting  how  the  French  pioneer  of  tragedy 
handles  the  historical  story  of  the  Queen  of  Eg\'pt  half 
a  centuny"  before  Shakespeare  approached  the  theme.  Like 
the  Englishman's,  the  Frenchman's  debt  to  Plutarch  is  great, 
yet  the  biographical  material  is  manipulated  by  him  with 
a  dramatic  ingenuity.  In  the  opening  scene  of  Jodelle's 
tragedy  the  ghost  of  Antony — he  is  already  dead — laments 
the  ruin  in  which  Cleopatra  has  involved  him.  The  presence 
of  the  ghost  betrays  the  influence  of  Seneca.  In  the  next 
scene  Cleopatra  is  dissuaded  by  her  handmaidens  from  com- 
mitting suicide  ;  and  a  chorus  of  Alexandrian  women  chant  of 
the  instability  of  human  happiness.  When  the  heroine  first 
appears  she  is  engaged  in  conversatio  nwhich  she  has  begun 
with  her  handmaidens  before  her  entrance.  This  vivid 
device  was  familiar  to   Shakespeare.     But   before   he  made 


JODELLE'S    CLAOPATRE  387 

trial  of  it,  it  had  lost  the  air  of  novelty  which  it  enjoyed  at'^ 
Jodelle's   hand.     In   the   second  act   Octavian    Caesar   (Au- 
gustus), the  conqueror  of  Antony,  discusses  with  his  council- 
lors the  sad  fate  of  the  hero,  and  the  future  of  Cleopatra  ;  I 
a  chorus  of  men  moralize  on  the  emptiness  of  human  pride. 
In   the   third   act    Octavian   has    a   pathetic   Interview   with 
Cleopatra.     She   begs   for   mercy   for    herself  and   for    her 
children.     One   of  her  followers,  Seleucus,  has  reported  to  j 
Octavian  that  Cleopatra   has   made  an   imperfect   disclosure 
of  her  wealth — has  hidden  some  of  her  jewellery.     Seleucus  s 
revelation  is  communicated  to  Cleopatra  ;  she  straightway  sum- 
mons him  to  her  presence  and,  as  he  enters,  she  denounces 
his  baseness  to  Octavian.     Here  the  dramatic  emotion  rises  to 
its  full  height.      Although    Cleopatra's   angry   remonstrance  \ 
closely  follows   Plutarch's   words,  there   are   changes  which 
are  finely  touched  by  Jodelle's  dramatic  instinct.     The  speech, 
which  is  iQj'hymed  decasyllabics,  runs  thus : 

Cleopdtre.  Mais  quoy,  mais  quoy  ? 

Mon  Empereur,  est-il  vn  tel  esmoy 
Au  monde  encor  que  ce  paillard  me  donne  ? 
vSa  lachete  ton  esprit  mesme  estonne, 
Comme  ie  croy,  quand  moy  Roine  d'ici, 
De  mon  vassal  suis  accusee  ainsi, 
Que  toy,  Cesar,  as  daigne  visiter, 
Et  par  ta  voix  a  repos  inciter. 
He  si  i'auois  retenu  des  joyaux, 
Et  quelque  part  de  mes  habits  royaux, 
L'aurois-ie  fait  pour  moy,  las,  malheureuse! 
Moy,  qui  de  moy  ne  suis  plus  curieuse .'' 
Mais  telle  estoit  ceste  esperance  mienne, 
Qu'a  ta  Livie  et  ton  Octauienne 
De  ces  joyaux  le  present  ie  feroy, 
Et  leurs  pitiez  ainsi  pourchasseroy. 
Pour  (n'estant  point  de  mes  presens  ingrates) 
Envers  Cesar  estre  mes  advocates.^ 

1  Jodelle's  Cleopdtre,  Act  ill.    Shakespeare's  version  of  the  same  speech 
of  the  Egyptian  queen  may  profitably  be  compared  with  the  French : 
Cleopatra,         O  Caesar  !  what  a  wounding  shame  is  this, 
That  thou,  vouchsafing  here  to  visit  me. 
Doing  the  honour  of  thy  lordliness 
To  one  so  meet,  that  mine  own  servant  should 
Parcel  the  sum  of  my  disgraces  by 
Addition  of  his  envy.     Say,  good  Caesar, 

C  C  2 


388    FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

Cleopatra's  outburst  of  rage  and  her  characteristic  excuse 
of  her  disingenuousness  run  in  the  same  mould  in  the  French 
and  the  English  play.  In  both  tragedies  Octavian  shows 
himself  magnanimous,  and  promises  to  spare  Cleopatra's  life. 
In  Jodelle's  fourth  act  Cleopatra  explains  that  she  longs  for 
death,  and  has  dissembled  with  Octavian  in  order  to  protect 
her  children.  vShe  quits  the  stage  with  her  weeping  hand- 
maidens to  kill  herself  on  Antony's  tomb.  In  the  fifth  and 
last  act  Octavian's  attendant,  Proculeius,  informs  the  people 
of  Alexandria  how  Cleopatra  died.  The  chorus  of  soldiers 
impartially  applauds  her  heroism  and  the  foTIy'or^ontestijig 
Octavian's  supremacy. 

Jodelle's  scenes  are  for  the  most  part  a  series  of  long  decla- 
mations interspersed  with  choruses.  There  is  The  orthodox 
absence  of  action,  but  there  is  passion  in  the  dramatic  rhetoric 
and  a  lyric  fervour  in  the  choruses.  The  general  effect  is  one 
of  pathetic  dignity  although  the  dramatic  vivacity  is  hampered 
by  the  choric  interpositions.  The  choric  functions  are  dis- 
charged not  by  one  band  of  actors  but  byJ:^^;  by  Cleopatra's 
waiting-women  as  well  as  by  Octavian  Caesar's  soldiers. 
Feeling  and  insight  are  brought  to  the  portrayal  of  the 
heroine,  and  of  her  conqueror,  Octavian  Caesar.  Truthfully, 
Jodelle  wrote  in  the  prologue  which  he  addressed  to  King 
Henry  II : 

Ici  les  desirs  &  les  flammes 
Des  deux  amans ;  d'Octavian  aussi 
L'orgueil,  I'audace  &  le  journel  souci. 

In    some   regards    Jodelle   aimed  at   a  stricter  adherence 

to  '  classical '  method  than  Greek  drama   enjoined.     French 

\    critics   of   the   Renaissance,    following   in    Italian    footsteps, 

expanded   Aristotle's   law^   of    unity   of   action    or    interest 

so  as  to  cover  in  addition  unities  of  time  and  place.     This  law 

That  I  some  lady  trifles  have  reserved, 

Immoment  toys,  things  of  such  dignity 

As  we  greet  modern  friends  withal ;    and  say, 

Some  nobler  token  I  have  kept  apart 

For  Livia  and  Octavia,  to  induce 

Their  mediation ;    must  I  be  unfolded 

With  one  that  I  have  bred  ? 

Antony  and  Cleopatra,  Act  v,  Sc.  ii,  1 58  seq. 


JODELLE'S   COMEDY    OF   EUGENE         389 

of  a  triple  unity  was  a  gloss  of  Italian  ingenuity  on  Aristotle's  j 
original  canon,  and  was  with  modification  accepted  by  the 
French    writers   of   classical    tragedy.      In     1572    the    new 
creed  was  embodied  by  the  French  dramatist,   Jean    de   la 
Taille,  one  of  Jodelle's  disciples,  in  the  critical  edict :    '  II  faut 
tousjours  representer  I'histoire  ou  le  jeu  en  un  mesme  jour, 
en  un   mesme  temps,  et  en  un   mesme  lieu.'      The  context 
makes  it  clear  that  De  la  Taille's  'I'histoire'  and  '  le  jeu'/ 
embraced  both  tragedy  and  comedy,  in  neither  of  which  was  \ 
the  scene  to  change  nor  the  time  of  the  mimic  action  appre-  1 
ciably  to   exceed   the   hours  of  the  theatrical   performance.  I 
Jodelle,  like   many  of  his  successors,  transgressed   the  new 
law  of  unity  of  place  by  an  occasional  transference  of  the 
scene.     Rut  in  Cleopdtre  and  in  most  of  the  French  tragedies 
of  which  that  piece  was  the  progenitor,  unity  of  time  was 
acknowledged  to  be  as  binding  an  obligation  asunity  of  action. 
Jodelle  contrived  to  develop  his  tragic  episode  within  the  time    \ 
which  was  occupied  in  the  presentation  of  the  drama.  -J 

The  versification  of  Jodelle's  first  French  tragedy  is  as  sig- 
nificant of  the  future  as  its  loyalty  to  the  unities.  The  second, 
third,  and  fifth  acts  are  in  ten-syllable  rhyming  lines,  but  the 
first  and  fourth  are  in  Alexandrines.  The  verse  of  six  feet 
which  closely  resembled  the  "Greek  iambic  line  of  Attic  tragedy 
became  the  national  type  of  dramatic  metre  in  France. 

Jodelle  approached  comedy  in  much  the  same  spirit  as 
tragedy.  Classical  correctness  of  form  is,  he  declares,  the 
primary  aim  of  genuine  comedy.  But  for  the  complete  suc- 
cess of  comedy  elements  of  modernity,  incidents  of  familiar  fife 
must  be  embroidered  on  the  classical  canvas.  Jodelle's  comic 
play,  which  is  called  ^//^^;/^,  after  its  hero,  tells  a  story  of 
a  rich  abbe's  disreputable  intrigue  with  the  wife  of  a  foolish 
friend.  In  sentiment  it  is  far  less  closely  identified  with  the 
claisical  revival  than  the  tragedy  of  Cleopdtre,  but  it  is  loyal 
to  the  classical  form  and  its  octosyllabic  rhyming  couplets 
are  not  out  of  harmony  with  classical  metre.  But  the  old  French 
spirit  of  comedy,  the  temper  of  the  old  French  fabliau,  the 
love  of  broadly  humorous  anecdote,  leavens  in  Jodelle's  page 
the  Roman  w'it  of  Terence.     The    Frenchman's  intrigue  is, 


390    FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

moreover,  coloured  by  Italian  insolence.  The  first  formal 
comedy  in  France,  Jodelle's  Eugene,  is  thus  a  cross  between 
Terence's  method  of  comedy  and  that  of  the  author  of  Maitre 
Pathelin,  while  there  is  at  the  same  time  a  liberal  infusion  of 
Italian  lubricity.  It  is  a  manner  of  composition  which  fore- 
shadows much  in  the  future  development  of  French  dramatic 
literature.  It  was  in  comedy  that  France  was  to  produce  in 
the  seventeenth  century  her  greatest  literature  of  genius. 
French  tragedy  was  never  to  scale  the  heights  of  French 
comedy,  despite  its  majesty  of  diction  and  gesture.  The 
comparative  inferiority  of  French  tragedy,  with  all  its  fine 
literary  flavour,  may  be  due  to  its  failure  to  seek  any 
sustenance  in  idiosyncrasies  of  national  sentiment.  A 
passion  for  classical  feeling  and  for  classical  correctness 
dominated  the  tragic  muse  of  France,  and  she  pressed  some 
classical  canons  to  extremities  of  which  Aristotle  had  not 
dreamed.  In  comedy,  however,  as  Jodelle's  pioneer  effort 
showed,  the  'esprit  gaulois'  claimed  a  control,  and  despite  the 
critics'  frown,  successfully  resisted  eviction  in  the  future. 

Jodelle  made  only  one  other  contribution  to  the  drama.  He 
was  author  of  a  second  tragedy — on  the  subject  o£JDido. 
The  plot  was  drawn  from  the  fourth  book  of  the  Aeneld  of 
Vergil.  If  in  Cleopatra  he  anticipated  a  theme  of  Shakespeare, 
in  Dido  he  anticipated  a  theme  of  Marlowe,  who  made  Dido's 
misfortunes  the  subject  of  a  tragedy.  Jodelle's  piece  opens  with 
the  preparations  for  Aeneas's  departure,  and  faithful  to  the 
unity  of  time,  the  fable  is  wholly  confined  to  Dido's  grief  and 

,  suicide  a  few  hours  later.  The  speeches  defy  Seneca's  generous 
standard  of  length,  but  Dido's  expansive  lamentations  sound 
many  a  pathetic  and  piteous  note.  Again  there  are  two 
choruses  (one  of  Aeneas's  companions  and  another  of 
Phoenician  women).  Didon  is  the  first  French  tragedy 
written  (apart  from  the  choruses)  wholly  In  Alexandrines. 
In  metrical  facility  Jodelle's  second  tragedy  marks  an  advance 

'  on  his  first.  Throughout  his  later  Alexandrines,  feminine 
rhymes  alternate  with  the  masculine  on  the  approved  modern 

V  pattern.  The  mellifluous  utterances  of  the  double  chorus 
lend,  too,  lyric  freshness  to  the  scene. 


JACQUES  GRl^VIN  391 

Jodelle's  example  produced  almost  immediately  a  rich 
harvest  of  plays,  both  comedies  and  tragedies,  on  classical 
subjects  and  models.  Jodelle's  colleagues  of  the  Pleiade  gave 
him  not  only  encouragement  but  the  practical  support  of 
imitation.  Baif  produced  a  comedy  called  Braice  ou  Taille- 
hras  at  the  palace  of  the  Duke  of  Guise  in  1567.  This  was 
a  spirited  adaptation  of  Plautus's  Allies  g/oriosns,  to  which 
Ronsard,  Belleau,  and  Desportes  added  original  choruses  on 
classical  lines,  although  the  Latin  text  did  not  authorize  them. 
Baif^  was  also  responsible  for  quite  literal  renderings  of/ 
Sophocles'  Antigoiie  _  and  Terence's  Eiumclnts.  His  col- 
league, Remy  Belleau,  who  died  prematurely  in  1577,  showed 
greater  inventiveness  in  a  specimen  of  comedy  which  he 
called  La  RscoiuuLe ;  ^  it  is  a  sketch  of  contemporary  society 
in  Jodelle's  classical  manner  with  little  of  Jodelle's  animation. 
Imitations  of  Seneca's  Medea  and  Agatnemnon^  and  two 
tragedies  on  the  deaths  respectively  of  Darius  and  Alexander 
the  Great  came  likewise  from  pens  of  less  eminent  disciples 
of  Jodelle.  It  was  in  tragedy  that  Jodelle's  influence  proved 
most  fruitful.  His  effort  in  comedy  bore  comparatively  small  / 
fruit.  In  that  field  his  influence  was  soon  eclipsed.  But  a 
long  line  of  dramatists  loyally  took  up  his  tragic  parable. 

Within  a  generation  the  new  tragic  art  was  set  under 
Jodelle's  guidance  upon  sure  foundations  throughout  France. 
His  capacities  were  soon  surpassed,  and  two  writers,  Jacques 
Greyin  and  Robert  Garnier,  won  superior  tragic  triumphs. 
Garnier's  work  helped  more  directly  than  Jodelle's  to  mould 
dramatic  endeavour  in  England.  If  Jodelle  deserve  the  honour 
of  inventor  of  the  classical  type  of  modern  drama  Garnier  j 
should  be  credited  with  lifting  it  to  a  higher  plane  of  art. 

Grevin  stands  midway  betw;een  Jodelle  and  Garnier.  He  is 
an  interesting  figure.  A  young  French  Huguenot,  he  twice 
visited  England,  and  was  well  received  by  Queen  Elizabeth. 
He  addressed  to  her  in  1560  a  poetic  epistle,  entitled  '  Le 
Chant  du  Cigne '  ('  The  Song  of  the  Swan '),  in  which,  like 

^  The  plot  dealt  with  the  Civil  War  of  1562  and  showed  how  a  young 
woman  of  Poitiers,  after  being  rescued  from  death,  defeated  an  uncon- 
genial matrimonial  plot  to  which  her  benefactor  exposed  her. 


392    FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

/ 

'  Ronsard,  Du  Bartas,  and  Aubigne,  he  grows  dithyrambic  over 
her  linguistic  facuky,  which  included  Spanish,  Tuscan,  Latin, 
and  (Jreek,  in  addition  to  French  : 

Vous  parlez  promptement  nostre  langue  fran9oise, 
L'espagnoUe,  et  thuscane,  et  latine,  et  gregeoyse, 
Vous  S9avez  la  vulgaire,  et  si  avez  cest  heur 
D'entendre  et  de  respondre  a  tout  ambassadeur.^ 

I  Two  comedies  in  verse  and  a  tragedy  in  Jodelle 's  manner 
form  Grevin's  contribution  to  the  regular  dramatic  movement. 
One  of  his  comedies  merely  adapts  Jodelle's  E^igene,  the 
other    comes    from    the   Italian    throuofh    an    earlier   French 

\  version.^  His  tragedy  in  French,  which  deals  with  the  death  of 
Julius  Caesar,  is  alone  memorable.  He  wrote  it  while  at  the 
College  de  Guienne  at  Bordeaux  for  his  fellow  students  to  act. 
His  tutor,  Muret,  had  already  penned  a  Latin  tragedy  on  the 
subject,  but  Grevin  passed  beyond  his  tutor's  scope.  Muret 
found  his  material  solely  in  Plutarch's  life  of  Caesar.  Grevin 
enlarged  the  theme  by  borrowing  hints  from  Plutarch's  lives 
of  Brutus  and  Mark  Antony  in  addition  to  the  life  of  Caesar. 
Therein  Grevin  notably  anticipated  Shakespeare. 

Nor  does  Grevin's  dramatic  feeling  and  insight  into 
character  discredit  Shakespeare's  splendid  sequel.  Calpur- 
nia's  fears  and  her  appeal  to  Caesar  to  absent  himself  from 
the  Senate  on  the  fateful  Ides  of  March  are  invested  by 
Grevin  with  an  air  of  mystery  which  adumbrates  Shake- 
speare's tone.  The  emotional  and  choleric  temperament  of 
Cassius   is   forcibly   contrasted   with   the   equable    tenor    of 

I  Brutus's  disposition.  Most  remarkable  is  GrevtnVTast  act, 
which   presents   with    spirit   the   harangues   of    Brutus    and 

'  Antony  to  the  fickle  mob.  Here  Grevin  shows  a  peculiar 
adroitness  in  handling  Plutarch's  narrative.  The  justifica- 
tory harangues  of  the  assassins,  Brutus,  Cassius,  and  Decimus 

^  Le  Chant  du  Cigne.  A  la  majeste  de  la  Royne  dangleterre,  1560, 
lines  169-76;  quoted  in  Appendix  to  Lucien  Pinvert's  'Jacques  Grevin 
(1538-70)'.    Paris,  1899,  p.  356. 

^  Grevin's  La  Trcsorih-e  or  La  Maubertine  (15 58)  in  verse  is  an  imita- 
tion of  Jodelle's  Eit^i^hh'.  His  Les  Eslui/iis  is  very  freely  adapted  from 
Les  Abuscz,  Charles  l^tienne's  earlier  French  version  of  the  Italian  GH 
Ifioannati. 


CAESAR'S  DEATH  IN  FRENCH  DRAMA  393 

Brutus,  arc  heard  by  the  soldiers  in  silence,  liut  Mark 
Antony's  address  from  the  tribune  (luickly  excites  threats 
of  vengeance.  The  orator  holds  up  the  blood-stained  garment 
of  the  slaughtered  dictator — 

Et  vous,  braves  soldats,  voyez,  voyez  quel  tort 

On  vous  a  faict,  voyez  ceste  robbc  sanglante, 

C'est  celle  de  Cesar,  qu'ores  je  vous  presente  : 

C'est  celle  de  Cesar,  magnanime  empereur, 

Vray  guerrier  entre  tous,  Cesar  qui  d  un  grand  coeur 

S'acquit  avecque  nous  I'entiere  jouissance, 

Du  monde  maintenant  a  perdu  sa  puissance, 

Et  gist  mort,  estendu,  massacre  pauvrement 

Par  I'homicide  Brute. 

The  leader  of  the  soldiers  responds— 

Armons-nous  sur  ce  traistre, 

Amies,  armes,  soldats,  mourons  pour  nostre  maistre. 

Antony  resumes  his  speech  by  bidding  his  hearers  follow  I 
him,  and  warns  them  against  the  fear  of  death  in  performing 
their  vow  to  avenge  their  murdered  leader.^  Shakespeare 
touched  with  a  pen  of  fire  Plutarch's  bare  reports  of  the 
speeches  in  the  forum  at  Caesar's  funeral,  and  brought 
the  events  down  to  the  disasters  of  Philippi.  Grevin's 
work  is  a  mere  daub  of  drama  compared  with  vShakespeare's 
living  dramatic  picture.  Nevertheless  Grevin's  version,  how- 
ever bald,  is  an  important  anticipation  of  Shakespeare's 
masterpiece.  Grevin's  tragedy  acquired  a  wide  reputation, 
and  it  is  significant  that  Shakespeare  should  have  consciously 
or  unconsciously  developed  the  dramatic  tradition  of  the 
oratory  at  Caesar's  funeral  which  Grevin  inaugurated. 

Very  notable  developments  of  French  Renaissance  drama 
are  associated  with  the  name  of  Robert  Gamier,  whose  power 
was  recognized  in  Elizabethan  England  with  greater  eager- 

1  The  first  soldier  thereupon  recalls  an  augury  of  their  beloved  general's 
murder.  The  second  soldier  brings  the  play  to  a  somewhat  abrupt  end 
with  the  somewhat  enigmatic  speech,  which  was  a  bold  comment  on  the 
political  philosophy  of  the  Huguenots— 

Ceste  morte  est  fatale 
Aux  nouveaux  inventeurs  de  puissance  royale. 
The  rest  is  silence.    But  there  is  artistic  finish  in  the  slender  indication  of 
the  issue. 


394   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

ness  than  that  of  any  other  French  writer  for  the  stage. 
Garnier  loyally  obeys  the  rules  of  classical  tragedy  of  the 
Senecan  pattern.  Monologues  abound.  Declamation  is  his 
chief  weapon.  Yet  he  brought  to  his  work  a  larger  measure 
of  poetic  sentiment  and  a  greater  command  of  tragic  pathos 
than  any  predecessor.  He  showed  too  how  classical  sympa- 
thies could  reconcile  themselves  with  a  new  type  of  romantic 
drama.  Garnier  finally  riveted  on  French  tragedy  the  yoke 
of  the  Alexandrine,  which  he  handled  more  skilfully  than 
Jodelle.  He  was  indeed  a  poet  of  no  mean  order,  and  the 
lyric  note  of  his  choruses  has  something  of  the  grace  and 
vivacity  of  his  contemporary  Ronsard.  None  of  the  Pleiade 
school  save  Ronsard  were  superior  to  him  in  variety  of  metre 
and  imagery.  He  is  equally  at  home  in  plaintive  and  merry 
keys.  Nor  does  his  charm  lie  merely  in  verbal  harmonies. 
His  graphic  touches  of  description  are  equally  attractive.  In 
a  chorus  of  huntsmen,  in  his  tragedy  of  Htppolyte,  he  pictures 
all  the  incidents  of  the  chase  with  a  skill  which  gives  the 
poetry  the  novel  character  of  lyrical  narrative.  The  stanza,^ 
which  portrays  the  crafty  efforts  of  the  hunted  animal  to 
escape  the  pursuing  dogs,  is  worthy  of  comparison  with 
Shakespeare's  painting  in  Venus  and  Adonis  of  '  poor  Wat ', 
'  the  purblind  hare  '  tacking  '  with  a  thousand  doubles  ', 

Born  in  1545  Garnier  lived  on  till  1600,  well  into  Shake- 
speare's middle  life.  He  was  a  la\VYer  by  profession,  and  no 
professional  writer  for  the  stage.     Cultured  society  of  Paris 


'  Cf.  Garnier's  Tragedies,  Paris,  1582,  p.  92  b: 

Lances  par  les  piqueurs  ils  rusent 
Ores  changeant,  ores  croisant, 
Ore  k  I'ecart  se  forpaisant 
D'entre  les  meutes  qu'ils  abusent. 
Ore  ils  cherchent  de  fort  en  fort 
Les  autres  betes  qui  les  doutent, 
Et  de  force  en  leur  lieu  les  boutent, 
Pour  se  garantir  de  la  mort. 
Lk  se  tapissant  contre  terre, 
Les  pieds,  le  nez,  le  ventre  bas, 
Moquent  les  chiens  qui  vont  grand  erre 
Dependant  vainement  leurs  pas. 

The  next  stanza  pictures  the  encounter  with  both  boar  and  hare. 


ROBERT  GARNIER  39.", 

hailed  him  as  the  master-dramatist  of  the  era.    Ronsard  echoed 
the  prevaihng  opinion  when  he  wrote  {Qiuvres,  v.  353) — 

Par  toy,  Garnier,  la  scene  des  Francois  \ 

vSe  change  en  or,  qui  n'estoit  que  de  bois.       ) 

In  the  topics  of  his  tragedies,  he  respected  the  classical  tra- 
dition. Three  of  his  ^X^ys—Hippo/yte,  La  Troade,  and 
Antigone— -Ax^  to  a  large  extent  recensions  of  Seneca.  His 
capacity  may  be  better  appraised  in  three  tragedies  drawn  from 
Plutarch's  biographies  and  developed  on  original  lines.  All 
three  deal  with  the  same  historical  epoch— the  fall  of  the 
Roman  Republic.  Of  one  the  heroine  is  Cornelie,  the 
\ndow  of  Pompey,  Caesar's  rival ;  the  second  revolves  about 
the  fortunes  of  Porcie  (Portia),  the  wife  of  Brutus  ;  the  third 
has  Marc  Antoine  (Mark  Antony)  for  its  hero. 

No  dramatist  before  Garnier  had  brought  the  moving 
figure  of  Brutus's  wife,  Portia,  on  the  stage.  Baif,  a  leader 
of  the  Pleiade,  wrote — 

Au  theatre  Fran9ois,  gentil  Garnier,  tu  as 

Fait  marcher  grauement  Force  a  I'ame  indomtee. 

The  story  of  Garnier's  Porcie  treats  of  the  events  after  the  \ 
death  at  Philippi  of  Brutus.^  The  dramatist  warns  the  reader  ] 
in  his  '  argument '  that  he  supplements  Plutarch's  information 
by  that  of  Dion  Cassius  and  Appian,  besides  introducing 
episodes  of  his  own  invention.  The  heroine  has  no  competitor 
to  share  the  dramatic  interest,  although  herjuijse  has  a  pro- 
minence of  which  history  knows  nothing.  The  triumvirs 
Octavian,  Antony,  and  Lepidus  appear  as  Portia's  jailers. 
All  Garnier's  tragic  power  is  concentrated  on  the  character 
and  suicide  of  Brutus's  noble-hearted  wife  and  widow. 

In  his  two  other  great  tragedies,  Cornelie  and  Marc 
Antoine,  Garnier  deals  with  Roman  characters  who  had 
already  figured  in  French  tragedy.  In  his  tragedy  of  Cor- 
nelie  (the  widow  of  Pompey)  Garnier  pursued  much  of 
the  path  which  Grevin  had  trodden  in  his  Cesar,  but  the 
later    dramatist    invested    with    more    dramatic   significance 

^  Shakespeare  errs  historically  in  Julius  Caesar  in  making  Portia's 
death  precede  that  of  Brutus. 


396   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

the  characters  not  only  of  Julius  Caesar,  but  those  of  Cicero, 
Mark  Antony,  Decimus  Brutus,  and  Cassius.  Cassius's 
speech  glows  throughout  Garnier's  drama  of  Cornelie  with 
revolutionary  ardour.  Caesar  is  presented,  at  the  zenith  of  his 
power,  with  a  full  consciousness  of  the  revolutionary  forces 
which  his  arrogance  has  brought  into  being  to  imperil  his  life. 
In  essaying  in  Marc  Antoine  the  stirring  theme  of  Antony 
and  Cleopatra,  Garnier  followed  in  Jodelle's  footsteps.  But 
Jodelle  had  only  dramatized  the  second  half  of  the  tragic  tale. 
I  Garnier  now  tells  the  first  half.  His  tragedy  ends  with  the 
death  of  Antony.  Through  the  first  four  acts  he  brings  his 
energy  to  bear  on  the  Roman  hero,  and  the  Queen  of  Egypt 
ifills  a  subsidiary  place.  But  in  the  last  act  Cleopatra  becomes 
(the  protagonist  with  most  pathetic  effect.  There  is  intensity 
pf  passion,  there  is  the  ecstasy  of  grief,  in  the  long  lamentations 
-bf  Cleopatra  over  Antony's  lifeless  corpse. 

Antoine,  6  pauvre  Antoine,  Antoine  ma  chere  ame, 
Tu  n'es  plus  rien  qu'un  tronc,  le  butin  d'une  lame. 
Sans  vie  et  sans  chaleur,  ton  beau  front  est  desteint, 
Et  la  palle  hideur  s'empare  de  ton  teint. 
Tes  y^eux,  deux  clairs  soleils,  ou  se  voyoit  empreinte, 
Luisant  diuersement,  et  I'amour  et  la  crainte, 
De  paupieres  converts,  vont  noiiant  en  la  nuict, 
Comme  un  beau  iour  cache,  qui  les  tenebres  fuit. 

Antoine,  ie  vous  pry'  par  nos  amours  fidelles, 

Par  nos  ccEurs  allumez  de  douces  estincelles, 

Par  nostre  sainct  hymen,  et  la  tendre  pitie 

De  nos  petits  enfans,  nceud  de  nostre  amitie. 

Que  ma  dolente  voix  a  ton  oreille  arrive, 

Et  que  ie  t'accompagne  en  Tinfernale  rive, 

Ta  femme,  ton  amie :  entens,  Antoine,  entens, 

Quelque  part  que  tu  sois,  mes  soupirs  sanglotans.  .  .  . 

Que  dis-ie  ?  ou  suis-ie .''  6  pauvre,  6  pauvre  Cleopatre ! 
O  que  I'aspre  douleur  vient  ma  raison  abatre ! 
Non,  non,  ie  suis  heureuse  en  mon  mal  deuorant 
De  mourir  auec  toy,  de  t'embrasser  mourant, 
Mon  corps  contre  le  tien,  ma  bouche  desseichee 
De  soupirs  embrasez,  a  la  tienne  attachee, 
Et  d'estre  en  mesme  tombe  et  en  mesme  cercueil, 
Tous  deux  enuelopez  en  un  mesme  linceuil.' 

'  Gamier,  7>-a^vv//Vjr,  Paris,  1582,  pp.  201-2. 


GARNIHRS   CLEOPATRA  397 

Compared  with  Cleopatra's  magical  words  in  the  same 
situation  in  Shakespeare's  Antony  and  Cleopatra  Garnier 
may  be  judged  turgid  and  strained  : 

Clcop.  Noblest  of  men,  woo  't  die  ? 

Hast  thou  no  care  of  me  ?  shall  I  abide 
In  this  dull  world,  which  in  thy  absence  is 
No  better  than  a  sty  ?     O,  see,  my  women. 

\Antony  dies. 

The  crown  o'  the  earth  doth  melt.     My  lord ! 

O  !  wither'd  is  the  garland  of  the  war, 

The  soldier's  pole  is  fall'n :  young  boys  and  girls 

Are  level  now^  with  men  ;  the  odds  is  gone, 

And  there  is  nothing  left  remarkable 

Beneath  the  visiting  moon.  (IV.  xiii.  59-68.) 

But  Garnier,  however  faindy,  adumbrates  Shakespeare's 
inspired  interpretation  of  the  terrible  scene.  Both  dramatists 
alike  sought  suggestion  in  Plutarch,  and  Jodelle  had  already 
marked  out  their  road.  Not  once,  but  twice  Cleopatra 
claimed  rich  toll  of  French  drama  before  Elizabethan  tragedy 
offered  her  its  supreme  tribute. 

The  two  remaining  dramatic  works  of  Garnier,  called  re-\ 
spectively  Sedecie,  on  Les  Juives,  and  Bradamante,  diverge  \ 
from  the  strict  classical  path.      In  Sedecie,   the  divergence  1 
touches  not  the  form  but  the  theme  and  sentiment,  which 
have  affinities  with  the  middle  ages.     In  Bradamante  there 
is  Innovation  in  all  directions  ;  its  affinities  are  with  the  future. 

Sedecie  (the  French  name  of  Zedekiah)  is  a  scriptural 
tragedy  and  has  a  backward  link  with  the  mediaeval  drama. 
Garnier  was  not  the  first  Frenchman  to  pen  on  the  classical 
pattern  a  biblical  tragedy  which  recalled  the  temper  of  the 
mystery-play.  The  ambition  of  clothing  biblical  history  in  ^ 
classical  form  invaded  the  sphere  of  drama  as  well  as  that  of 
epic.  During  the  years  Immediately  preceding  the  rise  of  the  , 
Pleiade,  some  scriptural  dramas  had  been  cast  in  either  the 
Sophoclean  or  Senecan  mould.  But  Latin  and  not  French 
was  then  the  vehicle  of  expression.  The  first  author  In 
France  of  a  classical  tragedy  on  a  scriptural  story  was  the 
Scotsmaa»_GreorgeBuchanan,  who   was    professor    at    the 


39^   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

College  de  Guienne  at  Bordeaux.     His  academic  position  and 
the  excellence  of  his   Latinity  gave  his  Latin  tragedies  of 
Jep hikes  and  Baptistes  a  wide  vogue  in  both  scholarly  and 
religious   circles.      Translations   of  Buchanan's   Latin    plays 
into  French  stimulated    the    production  of  scriptural   drama 
on  the  classical  pattern   in    the   French   tongue.     vSaul  and 
David  were  welcomed  as  heroes  of  French  classical  tragedy 
long  after    the    Pleiade    had    anathematized    the    mediaeval 
mystery.    Jean  de  la  Taille,  a  disciple  of  Ronsard,  contributed 
to  the  dramatic  harvest    of  Renaissance  France  two  sacred 
tragedies  of  strict  classical  orthodoxy,  Les  Gabaoniies  (1571) 
and  Sai'il  ftirietLX  {c.  1572).     It  was  to  this  series  of  dramatic 
endeavour,  which  tried  to  reconcile  the  old  religious  aim  of 
French  drama  with   the  new   classical   form,   that  Garnier's 
Sedecie^  ou  Les  Jnives^  is  a  notable  addition.     It  tells,  with 
devotional  fervour,  the  story  of  Nebuchadnezzar's  victory  over 
Zedekiah,  king  of  Judah.     Although  the  mediaeval  method  is 
rejected,  the  piece  illustrates  how  the  new  school,  despite  its 
scorn  of  mediaeval  influences,  found  it  impossible  to  withstand 
all  their  assaults.     Garnier's  fame  and  abilities  strengthened 
anew  the  hold  of  scriptural   themes  on  French   drama  and 
gave  the  sway   permanence.     The   tragic   capacities  of  the 
story  of  Queen  Esther  were  repeatedly  proved  by  classical 
dramatists  in  the  later  part  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  were 
finally  developed  by  the  master  hand  of  Racine. 

Garnier's  seventh  piece,  Bradaniante^  marks  a  more 
original  development  in  the  history  of  French  drama.  It  is 
a  first  experiment  in  quite  a  new  dramatic  type,  and  plainly 
indicates  that  whatever  fetters  the  classical  scholars  were 
forging,  the  dramatic  movement  in  France  cherished  hopes 
of  expansion  beyond  classical  bounds.  Bradafnaiiie  is 
described  on  the  title-page  as  '  tragecomedle '.  It  Is  a 
play  of  romantic  love  and  chivalry,  with  a  happy  ending. 
The  chorus  has  disappeared,  and  there  is  no  prologue. 
The  story  comes  from  Ariosto's  Orlando  Fui^ioso.  Gar- 
nier's tragl-comic  plot  runs  in  outline  thus :  Bradamante, 
sister  of  Rinaldo,  the  cousin  and  rival  of  Ariosto's  hero 
Orlando,  Is  a  Christian  Amazon,  wielding  a  spear  with  irre- 


GARNIER'S   TRAGI-COMEDY  399 

sistible  might.  Two  friends,  both  knights  of  high  repute, 
Roger,  a  converted  Saracen,  and  Leon,  a  son  of  the  Greek 
Emperor,  sue  for  her  hand,  neither  knowing  the  other's 
intention.  The  lady  favours  the  Saracen,  but  her  parents,! 
whose  betrayal  of  worldly  motives  is  in  the  comic  vein,  decide 
in  favour  of  the  Greek  Leon.  There  is,  however,  no  escape; 
for  Leon  from  the  immovable  condition  that  the  successful 
aspirant  to  the  lady -warrior's  hand  must  first  disarm  her  in 
fair  fight.  Leon,  an  ineffective  fighter,  recognizes  the  hope- 
lessness of  the  attempt,  and  appeals  to  his  friend  Roger,  an 
invincible  swordsman,  to  help  him  out.  Roger  is  under  obliga- 
tions to  Leon,  while  Leon  is  quite  ignorant  that  his  friend's 
heart  is  engaged  in  the  same  quarter  as  his  own.  Roger 
complacently  accepts  Leon's  invitation  to  personate  his  friend 
in  the  combat,  and  in  his  disguise  he  disarms  the  fair  duellist. 
Thereupon,  after  much  involved  incident,  the  visitor's  earlier 
passion  for  the  lady  comes  to  light.  Leon  magnanimously 
yields  to  his  friend  his  claim  on  Bradamante,  almost  as  suddenly 
as  \"alentine  surrenders  his  claim  on  Julia  10  his  friend  Proteus 
in  the  Two  Gentleiiien  of  Verona.  In  Garnier's  romantic 
drama,  Leon  at  once  matches  elsewhere,  and  as  he  leaves  the 
scene  for  his  friend  Roger's  hymeneal  festivities  with  Brada- 
mante, his  own  first  love,  he  closes  the  play  with  the  lines 
(i582ed.,  p.  42<$)— 

Quel  heur  le  Dieu  du  ciel  insperement  me  donne! 
Oncq,  ie  croy,  sa  bonte  n'en  feit  tant  a  personne. 
O  que  ie  suis  heureux !  ie  uaincray  desormais 
L'heur  des  mieux  fortunez  qui  n'esquirent  iamais. 

The  ending  is  unqualified  happiness  all  round.  The  un- 
reality of  the  theme  is  relieved  by  many  natural  touches 
of  character.  The  dramatic  tenor  is  new  to  France,  and 
although  the  note  had  been  struck  in  Italy,  Gamier  sounded 
it  with  a  fresh  vigour,  which  was  soon  to  be  echoed  in  England 
in  yet  fuller  tones. 


400   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

V 

Irregular  Drama  of  the  French  Renaissance 

Garnier's  occasional  deviations  from  the  straight  path  of 
classical  orthodoxy  indicate  that  French  national  sentiment 
still  craved  a  greater  elasticity  of  dramatic  method  than  the 
classical  tradition  provided  or  sanctioned.  Not  merely  had 
the  threat  of  the  Pleiade  to  banish  for  ever  from  the  French 
realm  of  drama  the  shapeless  survivals  of  the  past  failed  to 
take  effect,  but  the  irregular  tendencies  of  popular  taste  were 
infecting  the  classical  workshops.  When  one  turns  from  the 
scholarly  circles  to  the  popular  stage  outside  their  bounds, 
one  finds  all  manner  of  transgressions  of  classical  law  in 
unchecked  operation.  Religious  feeling  demanded  the  con- 
tinuance of  sacred  drama  in  its  old  mould  of  mystery  and 
not  merely  in  Garnier's  new  shape  of  classical  tragedy. 
Political  feeling  and  interests  of  the  moment  claimed  expres- 
sion in  tragedy  and  questioned  the  right  of  tragic  writers  to 
confine  their  topics  to  mythic  history,  which  lacked  relevance 
to  current  life.  There  was  a  yearning  for  '  les  nouveaux  argu- 
ments '  which  classical  theorists  scorned.  Drama  had  entered 
into  the  life  of  the  French  nation  to  an  extent  quite  unknown 
at  the  moment  in  England.  In  one  of  its  unregenerate  phases 
it  had  become  an  engine  of  public   criticism    and    a  disse- 

j  minator  of  public  intelligence.  The  classical  reformers  in 
seeking  to  restrict  it  to  new  channels  of  poetry  and  formal 
art,  had  misapprehended  the  force  of  popular  opinion. 
A  greater  flexibility  of  form,  too,  than  was  reconcilable  with 
the  classical  canons  was  required  of  drama  which  should  serve 
purposes  of  general  entertainment. 

As  a  consequence,  through  the  second  half  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  while  classical  tragedy  and  classical  comedy  were 
winning  notable  triumphs  in  cultured  ranks,  flagrant  breaches 
of  the  classical  traditions  were  enjoying  the  nation's  whole- 

■   hearted   suffrages.      Popular    applause    was   evoked   in   the 

public  theatres  not  only  by  new  experiments  in  the  mediaeval 

\  mystery  or  the  soU/e,  but  by  amorphous  species  of  drama 

! answering  such   lawless    descriptions   as   these: — 'tragedies 


REVIVAL  OF  SACRED  DRAMA  401 

morales,  tragedies  allegoritiues,  tragi-comedies  pastorales ^_f 
tragl-pastorales,  fal)lesbocageres,  bergerlcs,  histoires  tragiciucs, 
journees  en  tragcdie,  tragedies  sans  distinction  d'actcs  ni  de 
scenes,  martyres  de  saints  et  saintes.'  Polonius's  creator 
might  well  have  been  studying  theatrical  programmes  of 
contemporary  Paris  when  he  asserted  that  actors  of  the  day 
were  equally  efficient  in  such  miscellaneous  diversions  as 
'pastoral-comical,  historical-pastoral,  tragical- historical,  tragi- 
cal-comical, historical -pastoral,  scene  -  indivisible,  or  poem 
unlimited'.  {Hamlet,  II.  ii.  426-7.)  Shakespeare's  'scene 
indivisible '  sounds  like  a  literal  reminiscence  of  the  current 
kind  of  French  tragedy  which  was  repeatedly  described  on 
title-pages  as  '  sans  distinction  d'actes  ni  de  scenes '. 

The  later  history  of  the  mystery  is  characteristic  of  the 
o-eneral  trend  of  events.  The  mediaeval  form  of  the  sacred 
play  was  often  reproduced  even  by  those  who  were  well 
versed  in  classical  drama.  The  law  of  1 548  which  prohibited 
the  dramatization  of  scriptural  topics  was  never  strictly 
enforced  and  by  the  end  of  the  century  had  fallen  into 
desuetude.  Such  recognition  of  a  past  vogue  made  a 
forcible  appeal  to  the  Huguenots,  and  Protestant  scholars 
encouraged  the  tendency,  despite  their  classical  training. 
They  knew  that  the  scriptural  tale  was  adaptable  to  the\ 
classical  shape  of  tragedy,  but  many  deemed  the  mediaeval  j 
mould  freer  of  the  suspicion  of  profanity.  A  pathetic  piece  ' 
of  drama  Q,n\\\\e.^  Abraham  sacrifiaiit,  by  Theodore  de  Beze 
(or  Beza),  the  Calvinist  scholar,  is  mainly  a  dialogue  between 
Abraham  and  Isaac  on  wholly  antiquated  lines.  It  was  acted 
at  the  University  of  Lausanne  in  1551,  just  before  classical 
tragedy  had  been  turned  to  French  uses.  But  even  after  the 
advent  of  the  classical  drama  in  France  and  the  production  of 
sacred  five-act  tragedies  in  Alexandrines  and  with  choruses, 
the  method  of  the  mystery  still  lived  on.  David  combat/anty  \ 
David  fiigitif,  David  triomphant  (published  in  1566), 
are  three  notable  pieces  of  literary  merit,  which  form  a 
trilogy  of  mysteries;  they  are  so  loyal  to  conservative 
principles  that  their  scenic  arrangement  conforms  to  the 
mediaeval  stage-method  of  fixed  *  mansions '   or    unchange- 

LEE  D    d 


402   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

able  tiers  of  set  scenes.  The  author  LquIs  des  Masures  was 
a  H^-iguenot  pastor  at  Metz  and  vStrasburg  successively,  and 
his  sole  innovation  on  the  mediaeval  scheme  was  to  graft  on 
his  dramatic  endeavour  the  simple  and  joyous  note  of  French 
Protestant  psalmody.  A  lyric  in  his  David  trioniphaiit^  in 
which  each  stanza  ends  with  the  burden, 

Israel  ramene  en  joie 
David  triomphant ! 

is  a  fine  contribution  to  Huguenot  psalmody  and  as  spirited 
a  reveil  2iS,  any  that  the  poets  of  the  Pleiade  devised.^ 

Not  that  Huguenots  monopolized  the  surviving  mystery. 
In  1580  there  was  produced  a  new  piece  from  a  Catholic  pen 
on  the  time-worn  topic  of  Abel's  murder  by  Cain,  which,  with 
much  literary  faculty  preserves  intact  the  mediaeval  senti- 
ment. A  '  tragedie  sainte,  extraite  de  I'histoire  de  Judith  ', 
was  published  in  Paris  in  the  same  year  under  the  title  of 
Holopherne^  and  was  equally  loyal  to  the  old  pattern.  Its 
author,  Adrien  d'Amboise,  was  no  Huguenot,  but  an  eccle- 
siastic of  the  court.  As  late  as  1601  there  was  produced  in 
Paris  a  sacred  play  called  Joseph  le  Chaste^  which  has  all 
the  irregular  features  of  the  old-fashioned  mystery  and  was 
addressed  to  a  Catholic  audience. 
r  But  it  w^as  not  only  sacred  topics  that  claimed  free  entry 
I  into  the  popular  theatre.  Outside  the  classical  sanctuaries 
the  dramatic  prohibition  of  '  les  nouveaux  arguments '  car- 
ried no  weight,  and  war  was  declared  on  the  canon 
which  would  limit  drama  to  themes  of  classical  history 
or  mythology.  Many  waiters,  who  were  by  no  means 
destitute  of  classical  learning,  denounced  the  prejudice 
which  cut  off  tragedy  from  national  politics  and  affairs. 
On  the  threshold  of  the  classical  citadels  there  consequently 

'  One  of  the  three  stanzas  runs  thus  ; 

Reveillez-vous,  reveillez, 

Reveillez  vous  tous  ; 
Ne  gisez  plus  travailles 

Sous  le  sommeil  doux. 
Le  jour  chasse  la  nuit  coie, 

Sorti  du  levant. 
Israel  ramene  en  joie 

David  triomphant. 


THE  HISTORY  PLAY  IN  FRANCE  403 

arose  a  spacious  French  drama,  for  the  most  part  in  verse 
and  embellished  by  choruses,  which  topically  showed  '  the 
very  age  and  body  of  the  time,  his  form  and  pressure  ', 

Nowiiere    is    the    resemblance    between    the    PVench    and 
English    dramatic   developments    of    the    sixteenth    century 
closer  than  in  the  growing  reliance    of   dramatists    in    both 
countries  on  varied  themes  of  national    history  and  current 
political  or  social  episode.     National  history  of  the  past  and  j 
present,  tragic  and  comic  incidents  of  current  domestic  life,  I 
contemporary  crises  in  the  affairs  of  foreign  countries,  were] 
as  freely  turned  to  dramatic  purposes  by  French  as  by  Eliza- 
bethan  authors  in   the  last  decades  of  the  Renaissance  era. 
Melodramatic     crudities    thereby    came     to     permeate     the 
French   as   completely   as    the  English  theatre.      Scenes__pf 
violence  were  often  admitted  to  the  stage.     There  vanished 
the~Teticence~of  the  classical  drama,  which  relegated  deeds  of 
blood  to  the  narratives  of  messengers.     At  the   same  time 
a  rouo-h  form  of  tragi -comedy— a  drama  of  romance,  which 
lacked  the  literary  quality  of  Garnier's  prototype  of  Brada- 
maiite,  grew   rapidly   in   public   favour.     French   drama    of 
popular  acceptance  thus  claimed  a  liberty  of  scope   almost 
as  versatile  as  the  drama  of  Elizabethan  England.     A  com- 
parative survey  indicates  that  French  popular  drama  stimulated 
some  measure  of  the  Elizabethan  licence,  however  the  outcome 
of  the  two   movements  differed   in  artistic  or   poetic   value. 
Difference  in  quality  was  quite  compatible    with   identity  of 
theme.     No  magic  pen  of  genius  was  at  work  in  France  to 
invest  the  dramatic  lawlessness  with  the  vitality  of  great  poetry 
or  art.     Therein  England  enjoyed  a  better  fortune. 

It  is  only  possible  here  to  select  a  few  illustrations  of  the 
breadth  of  topic  which,  in  defiance  of  the  classical  interdict 
against  '  les  nouveaux  arguments  ',  characterize  French  drama 
of  the  epoch  synchronizing  with  the  dawn  of  Elizabethan  drama. 
The  national  history  was  ransacked  for  plots.  The  titles  of  such 
popular  French  tragedies  :is  ZjiMr^LRcmde  (a  tale  of  the  alleged 
Trojan  invasion  of  France),  Meyouee  (son  of  King  Chilperic 
and  his  wife  Fredegonde),  Gaston  de  Foi'x,  La  Piicelle  de  Dom 
Reiiiy,  autreinent  d' Orleans  (Joan  of  Arc),  adequately  suggest 

D  d  2 


404  FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

the  type  of  historical  theme.      Contemporary    politics  were 
even  more  prominent  in  the  French  theatre  of  the  period. 

^  Recent  events  were  loosely  strung  together  to  the  neglect  of 
all  the  unities  save  that  of  political  feeling.     In  1575  a  crude 

"  tragic  piece  presented  the  assassination  of  the  Huguenot  leader, 
Coligny,  which  was  one  of  the  most  revolting  incidents  of  the 
massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew  three  years  before.  During  the 
final  struggle  in  which  the  Holy  Leaguers  engaged  from  1 589 
onwards  with  Henry  of  Navarre,  leading  members  of  the  Guise 
family  figured  repeatedly  as  heroes  on  the  French  stage.  Much 
popularity  was  accorded  to  a  piece  called  La  Guisiade^  which 
dealt  with  the  murder  in  1588  of  the  Duke  of  Guise  by  the 
hirelings  of  King  Henry  III.  The  author,  Pierre  Matthieu, 
a  political  pamphleteer  of  repute,  inclined  to  the  via  media  of 
'  Les  Politiques  ',  and  affects  a  very  qualified  sympathy  with 
the  murdered  duke.  But  the  house  of  Lorraine  had  its 
theatrical  vindicators  against  both  the  house  of  A^alois  and 
the  house  of  Navarre.  Le  Gttysieii^  on  Perjidie  tyyan- 
iiiqiie  comniise  par  Henry  de  Valois^  in  1592  in  five  acts 
('  en  vers  avec  des  choeurs '),  betrayed  open  hostility  to 
the  royal  house.  A  somewhat  similar  production  of  a  little 
later  date,  called  Le  triomphe  de  la  Ligite,  a  five -act 
tragedy,  again  dealt,  but  in  a  more  neutral  vein,  with  the 
assassination  of  the  Duke  de  Guise,  slightly  disguising  his 
name  and  those  of  his  fellows.  A  wide  survey  of  current 
affairs  here  includes  scenic  presentments  of  Jesuit  intrigues  in 
England,  of  the  fate  of  Mary  Stuart,  and  of  Henry  of  Navarre's 
victory  at  the  battle  of  Coutras.  A  point  of  view  which  was 
more  favourable  to  the  house  of  \'^alois  was  taken  in  a  tragedy 
called  Chilperic  le  Second^  which  satirized  the  subservience 
of  King  Henry  III  to  the  Due  de  Guise,  who  figured  in  the 
play  as  Chilperic's  mayor  of  the  Palace. 

Nor  did  the  topical  dramatists  confine  their  attention  to 

/  current  history  of  their  own  country.  La  Soliane^  which  was 
acted  with  popular  success  as  early  as  1560,  dealt  with  a  very 
recent  event  in  Turkish  history,  the  execution  by  the  Sultan 
Soliman  the  Magnificent  of  his  son  Mustapha  in  1553.  The 
fame  of  modern  oriental  heroes  was  soon  to  be  no  less  securely 


VESCOSSAISE  405 

enshrined  in  the  Elizabethan  drama.  A  '  tragedie  nouvelle'  of 
1588  by  a  Franciscan  of  Mons  is  a  dramatic  version  of  the  Duke 
of  Parma's  military  campaigns  against  the  Protestants  in  the 
Low  Countries,  The  piece,  although  it  is  in  five  acts,  borrows 
many  of  the  features  of  the  mystery.  The  Spanish  general  shares 
his  prominent  place  in  the  draj/ia/is  persoiiae  with  the  three 
persons  of  the  Trinity  and  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  there  is 
a  large  crowd  of  Dutch  '  heretics '  in  attendance.  After  the 
manner  of  mystery-plays,  Christ,  at  the  end  of  the  last  act, 
(juits  the  stage  with  a  rather  ironical  intimation  that,  disgusted 
with  the  wickedness  of  the  faithful.  He  will  no  longer  protect 
them  from  the  ravages  of  the  heretics. 

The  most  striking  and  by  far  the  most  literary  of  all  French 
tragedies  of  the  age  on  contemporary  foreign  history  closely- 
touched  English  affairs.  A  tragedy,  entitled  JJEscossaise^ 
portrayed  the  trial  and  execution  at  Fotheringay  of  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots.  It  was  published  in  1601,  and  loyally 
j5nfsued"Tfie  sixteenth-century  habit  of  bringing  politics  on 
the  popular  stage.  The  author,  Antoine  de  Montchretien 
(1575-1621),  was  a  believer  in  classical  principles,  and 
only  deviated  from  the  classical  tradition  in  point  of  topic 
and  sentiment.  Of  the  school  of  Garnier,  he  was  loyal  toi 
all  the  ancient  canons  of  unity,  of  declamation,  of  choric] 
interlude.  Chorus  and  monologue  are  indeed  developed 
beyond  the  common  limit,  and  the  interest  attaching  to  the 
effort  is  mainly  due  to  the  author's  bold  endeavour  to  adapt  to 
the  classic  mould  the  versatile  demands  of  public  taste.  Mont- 
chretien had  literary  and  poetic  gifts  which  give  him  a  place 
beside  his  master.  If  Garnier  may  be  regarded  as  the 
Corneille  of  the  drama  of  the  French  Renaissance,  Mont- 
chretien deserves  to  be  entitled  its  Racine.  His  lyric  feeling 
sets  him  in  the  same  category  as  the  leaders  of  the  Pleiade, 
In  many  choruses  he  sounds  such  delicate  notes  as  this : 

Apres  la  feuille,  la  fleur ; 

Apres  I'espine,  la  rose  ; 
Va  I'heur  apres  le  mal-heur : 
Le  jour  on  est  en  labeur 

Et  la  nuit  on  se  repose.^ 

^  Sophonisbe,  Act  II,  last  chorus. 


4o6   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

Montchretien's  dramatic  labours  began  with  Sophonisbe^  a 
regular  tragedy  on  the  Senecan  model,  the  subject  of  which 
had  already  attracted  classical  dramatists  of  France  as  well  as 
of  Italy.  There  followed  a  like  piece  of  work  wrought  out 
of  Plutarch's  life  of  Cleomenes  of  Sparta,  entitled  Les  Lachies, 
(i.e.  TheSpai^ian  Women).  Again  turning  to  paths  which  had 
already  been  trodden  by  the  classicists,  Montchretien  next 
produced  tragedies  in  classical  form  on  the  scriptural  subjects 
of  David  and  Haman,  the  prime  minister  of  King  Ahasuerus, 
respectively.  V Escossaise  was  Montchretien's  last  and  best 
contribution  to  the  drama.  It  is,  despite  its  orthodox  construc- 
tion, a  moving  dramatic  picture  of  the  almost  contemporaneous 
sufferings  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  Queen  Mary  and  Queen 
Elizabeth  are  the  protagonists.  There  are  choruses  of  members 
of  the  English  House  of  Commons  as  well  as  of  Queen  Mary's 
ladies  in  waiting.  Between  them  they  tell  the  story  of  Queen 
Mary's  last  days  wath  pathetic  accuracy.  The  play  is  a 
notable  tribute  to  the  modernizing  influences  which  were 
working  on  the  French  drama  when  the  English  theatre  was 
reaching  its  full  splendour.  There  was  much,  too,  in  Mont- 
chretien's career  to  enhance  for  English  students  the  interest 
of  his  work.  As  a  fugitive  homicide,  he,  a  Norman  of  humble 
Huguenot  parentage,  sought  an  asylum  in  England  early  in 
James  I's  reign.  The  English  king  was  grateful  to  him  for 
his  portrayal  of  his  royal  mother's  fate  and  successfully 
pleaded  with  Henry  IV  of  France  for  the  dramatist's  pardon. 
After  leaving  England  Montchretien  speculated  on  political 
problems  in  a  liberal  spirit,  and  invented  the  term  '  Political 
P^conomy'  {econoniie  poHtiqiie)  to  describe  the  purpose  of  his 
inquiries.  But  Montchretien  soon  engaged  in  fresh  exploits 
of  violence  in  the  Huguenot  cause  and  was  shot  as  a  rebel, 
his  body  being  torn  on  the  wheel  and  then  burnt.  Mont- 
chretien's stormy  career  and  his  crowning  achievement  in 
tragedy,  in  spite  of  its  fidelity  to  the  ancient  tragic  form, 
signally  illustrate  the  yearning  which  was  moving  P^rench 
sentiment  to  reconcile  dramatic  art  with  current  life. 

In  every  direction,  if  usually  to  crude  effect,  this  tendency 
to    imbue    drama    with    topical    interest    was    active.      The 


TOPICAL  CRIME  IN  FRENCH  DRAMA        407 

dramatization  of  reports  of  current  murders  in  domestic  life 
was  another  popular  feature  of  the  topical  tragedy  of  middle 
and  late  sixteenth-century  France.  As  early  as  1551,  there 
was  produced  in  Paris  a  'tragedie  francoise  a  huit  person- 
nages  ',  by  one  Jean  l^retog,  who  dramatized  a  recent 
sordid  episode  of  a  manservant's  adultery  with  his  mistress. 
The  offender's  trial  and  execution  and  the  injured  husband's 
death  of  grief  came  within  the  dramatist's  canvas.  Alle- 
gorical figures  of  Venus  and  Jealousy  figure  among  the 
dramatis  personac.  The  author  in  a  prologue  lays  stress  on 
the  truth  of  the  incidents ;  he  asserts  that  he  witnessed  the 
adultererVpunishment,  and  that  the  whole  is  depicted  '  sans 
nuUe  fiction '.  Here  the  anticipation  of  a  certain  class  of 
P^lizabethan  plays  is  singularly  clear.  Pieces  like  Arden 
of  Faversham^  A  Warning  for  Fair  Woinen^  and  Two 
Tragedies  in  One,  which,  towards  the  end  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  presented  in  London  dramatic  versions  of 
recent  stories  of  murder  and  adultery,  follow  the  precise  lines 
of  this  '  tragedie  fran9aise '  of  1 55 1 .  Allegorical  figures  in 
two  of  the  English  pieces,  History,  Murder,  Lust,  give,  as  in 
the  French  play,  positive  assurances  that  the  stories  are  true 
and  of  recent  date.  Jean  Bretog,in  the  Prologue  oi\\\^Tragedie 
francoise  a  ///^/■//^ri-c;/;/^^^^' (i  551),  describes  the  events  as — 

Depuis  trois  ans  une  histoire  advenue 
Dedans  Paris. 

He  writes  of  the  punishment  of  the  offenders  as  an  eye- 
witness— 

Je  le  dis  d'assurance. 
Ft  avoir  vu  faire  punition, 
Comme  il  est  dit  sans  nuUe  fiction. 

In  the  TiL'o  Tragedies  in  One,  which  anglicized  a  similar 
theme  in  the  Elizabethan  theatre  in  1601,  Truth  as  prologue 
says  of  the  husband's  murder  by  the  wife  and  a  servant- 
paramour,  that  it — 

was  done  in  famous  London  late 
Within  that  street  whose  side  the  river  Thames 
Doth  strive  to  wash  from  all  impurity,— 
The  most  here  present  know  this  to  be  true. 


4o8    FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

Later,  just  before  the  g-uilty  persons  are  hanged  in  sight  of 
the  audience,  Truth  again  enters  and  tells  the  spectators — 

Your  eyes  shall  witness  of  the  shaded  types 
Which  many  here  did  see  performed  indeed. 

A  second  French  piece,  which    ostensibly  belongs  to  the 
same  category  of  sensational  veracity,  is  of  more  ambitious 
/design.     It   is    called   Philonaire^  feiiiine   d' Hippolyte^  was 
first  published  in  Latin,  and  after  being  translated  into  French, 
was  publicly  acted  In  Paris  in  1560.    The  tragedy  professes  to 
dramatize  a  recent  ghastly  incident  Avhich  took  place  in  Pied- 
mont,   The  repulsive  motive  adumbrates  that  of  Shakespeare's 
\Measnrefor  Measure.    H  ippoly  te,  the  husband  of  the  heroine 
/Philonaire,  is  in  prison  under  sentence  of  death.     In  grief  and 
/  despair,  the  wife  seeks  an  interview  with  the  provost  of  the 
\  town,  and  petitions  him  to  release  the  prisoner.     The  provost 
I    assents  on  the  disgraceful  condition  that  the  petitioner  shall 
yield  herself  to    his   lust.  >    Horror-stricken  by   the  villany, 
but  unable  to  obtain  any  modification  of  the  conditions,  the 
woman  assents  to  the  provost's  proposal.     But   the  provost 
plays  his  victim  false.     Failing  to  cancel  the  husband's  sen- 
tence of  death,  he  sends  in  the  morning  the  man's  headless 
body  to  the  outraged  wife.     Nothing  would  seem  capable  of 
surpassing  the  horror  of  the  scene  in  which  Philonaire  learns 
the  grossness  of  the  provost's  treachery.     But  worse  follows, 
1  The   governor   of  the   province,    hearing    of   the    provost's 
offences,  insists  that  he  shall  at  once  marry  Philonaire,     Yet 
no  sooner  is  the  marriage  consummated  than  the  governor 
condemns   the   provost   to   death,   and   the   play    ends   with 
Philonaire's  lamentations  over  her  double  widowhood.    Prob- 
ably no  piece  mingles  in  more  revolting  proportions  intense 
tragic    sentiment     with    extravagant    obscenity.       Certainly 
P/nlonaiVe  had    no  sort  of  companion   until  John   Webster 
wrote   T/ie   White  Devil. 

Meanwhile  the  progress  of  romantic  tragi-comedy  attracts 
the  attention  of  the  student  of  French  Renaissance  drama. 
Very  significant  is  the  appearance  in  157^  of  a  rQmantic 
comedy  entitled  Liicelle  by  one  Louis  le  Jars,  It  was  publicly 
performed,  apparently  with  success,  and  has  more  than  one 


THE  FRENCH  ROMANTIC  DRAMA  409 

new  feature  of  moment.  It  is -written  in  prose,  and  the  author 
in  the  introduction  to  the  published  text  defends  this  innova- 
tion on  the  ground  that  prose  alone  can  make  drama  real.' 
He  especially  emphasizes  the  absurdity  of  putting  verse  into 
the  mouths  of  servants  and  persons  of  humble  rank.  He 
insists  that  to  such  characters,  at  any  rate,  prose  is  alone 
appropriate.  Shakespeare's  practice  proves  that  he  shared 
Le  Jars's  conviction.  Moreover,  the  serving-men  in  this 
romantic  ^""rcnch  play  freely  indulge  in  a  chop-logic,  a  loqua- 
cious buffoonery,  and  a  pedantry  which  anticipates  the  cut 
and  thrust  of  much  Elizabethan  comic  dialogue. 

The  story  of  Lucelle  is  simple,  and  one  or  two  of  its 
incidents  curiously  anticipate  that  of  Romeo  and  Juliet. 
Lucelle  is  the  daughter  of  a  banker,  and  is  sought  in 
marriage  by  the  Baron  de  Saint-Amour,  a  suitor  who  is 
accepted  with  eagerness  by  the  father.  But  the  young  lady 
is  already  secretly  betrothed  to  Ascagne,  a  clerk  in  her 
father's  office.  Distressed  by  her  father's  bestowal  of  her 
hand  on  the  baron,  she  seeks  consolation  from  her  secret 
lover,  and  is  surprised  in  his  company  by  her  kindred.  The 
banker,  roused  to  fury  by  the  discovery,  forces  the  clerk  to 
drink  poison.  Death  to  all  appearance  ensues,  and  the 
heroine  is  copious  in  her  lamentations  over  the  supposed 
corpse.  A  messenger  arrives  to  announce  that  the  clerk  is 
really  the  Prince  of  Wallachia  in  disguise.  A  quarrel  with 
his  father  had  driven  him  to  seek  his  fortunes  abroad.  The 
father's  death  has  just  taken  place,  and  the  road  to  his 
ancestral  throne  is  now  open  to  him.  The  astonished  banker 
appeals  to  the  apothecary,  who  had  supplied  him  with 
the  poison,  for  an  antidote.  The  apothecary  admits  that  the 
drug  is  only  a  sleeping  draught ;  the  clerk  c|uickly  returns 
to  consciousness,  and  weds  Lucelle.  Save  the  Baron  de\ 
vSaint- Amour,  everybody  is  satisfied.     The  production  of  such  \ 

'  In  1562  Jean  de  la  Taille  had  written  a  comedy  on  the  Latin  model  I 
which  he  called  Les  Cotrkuiiix.    It  was  in  prose,  in  imitation  of  the  Italian.  I 
De  la  Taille's  comedy  was  first  published  in  1573,  but  in  spite  of  the  \ 
innovation  of  prose,  it  adhered  so  closely  to  classical  form  and  sentiment  \ 
as  to  rank  it  with  the  classical  school  of  French  drama  rather  than  with    \ 
the  irregular  popular  school  to  which  Lucelle  clearly  belongs.  > 


4IO   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

a  play  adds  one  more  plain  proof  that  the  French  popular 
drama  in  vShakespeare's  boyhood  was  capable  of  offering-  the 
Elizabethan  theatre  very  valuable  hints. 

Meanwhile  the  farce  or  so/tie  renewed  its  life  in  the  public 
theatres.  Even  when  the  main  features  of  the  programme  were 
serious  romance  or  history  or  melodrama  or  tragedy  of  the 
sanguinary  pattern,  the  performance  at  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne 
included  '  un  prologue  drolatique  '  or  '  un  discours  facetieux  ', 
or  '  un  avant-jeu  recreatif  of  which  the  coarseness  was  of 
more  than  mediaeval  breadth.  Actors  in  these  buffooneries 
obtained  popular  honours  which  were  rarely  bestowed  on 
performers  in  serious  pieces.  Early  in  the  seventeenth  century 
the  chief  heroes  in  the  theatrical  world  of  Paris  were 
comedians,  whose  burlesque  pseudonyms,  Turlupin,  Brus- 
cambille,  Gros-Guillaume,  Gaultier-Garguille,  Guillot-Gorju 
echoed  their  professional  idiosyncrasies. 

The  anti-classical  revolt  which  popular  taste  fomented  and 

directed   was,   meanwhile,   reinforced   by  a   foreign  agency, 

by  the  spread  of  Italian  influence.     Troops  of  Italian  actors 

paid  France  frequent  visits  during  the  last  half  of  the  century, 

and   under   the   patronage   of  the  court   obtained   immense 

popularity    in    Paris.      The    theatre-going    public   was  thus 

thoroughly  familiarized  with    comic  developments  of  Italian 

drama,    and    there    was    a    cry    for    imitations    of    current 

Italian    comedy   in    French.     The    pastoral   drama   and  the 

,  masque    were   among   dramatic  inventions   of   Italy,    which 

[   France  also  adopted   late    in    the    sixteenth    century.      She 

handled  these  delicate  plants  rather  timidly,  and  made  no 

sustained  endeavour  to    modify   the    foreign    type.     Italy    is 

mainly  responsible   for  importing  the  masque   and   pastoral 

— <Qto  Elizabethan  drama ;    and  the  debt  which  England  owed 

to    her    nearer    neighbour's    endeavours    to    naturalize   these 

Italian  products  hardly  passed  beyond  efficient  encouragement 

to  pluck  fruit  from  the  same  tree. 

/      It  was  in  the  comedy  of  manners,  in  domestic  comedy,  that 

I   Italian  example  wrought  on  P'rench  drama  with  more  pene- 

I  trating  effect  and  thereby  helped  to  bring  new  comic  features 

\  into  vogue  abroad  as  well  as  at  home.     Pierre  de  Larivey 


PIKRRR  DE  LARIVEY  411 

(154 1  -1612)  was  the  chief  writer  of  French  comedy  near 
the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century/  and  of  the  dozen  comedies 
from  his  pen  nine  survive.  vSix  were  pubh'shed  in  1579, 
and  the  three  others,  which  were  written  near  the  same 
date,  only  came  from  the  press  in  161 1,  the  year  before 
the  author  died.  All  are  freely  based  on  Italian  orig-inals, 
which  themselves  owe  something-  to  Plautus  and  Terence. 
But  the  Frenchman's  style  was  more  pointed  than  that  of 
his  Italian  g-uides ;  there  are  new  Gallic  touches  in  the 
punning  dialectic,  and,  though  his  intrigue  abounds  in  offence, 
he  slightly  qualifies  the  Italian  indecencies.  He  rebutted 
charges  of  obscenity  on  the  ground  that  comedy  is  'le  miroir  de 
la  vie  ',  and  that  the  maxim  '  castigat  ridendo  mores  '  regulates 
its  purpose.  Old  men  in  love  who  are  duped  by  their  valets, 
girls  disguised  as  men,  husbands  deceived  by  wives,  are  among 
Larivey's  stock  characters,  and  the  tricks  which  they  play  on 
one  another  are  the  reverse  of  edifying.  The  sort  of  miscon- 
ception as  to  the  lady's  identity  which  leads  to  Bertram's 
intimacy  with  Helen  in  Shakespeare's  All's  IVell^  and  to 
Angelo's  intimacy  with  Mariana  in  the  same  dramatist's 
Measure  for  Aleasitrc^  is  a  frequent  episode  of  unabashed 
merriment  in  Larivey's  plays.  A  few  of  Larivey's  misunder- 
standings are,  however,  quite  innocent.  In  his  comedy  of  Les 
Ti^oviperies,  which  is  drawn  from  a  popular  Italian  piece, 
Secchi's  Iiigajini^  there  is  the  same  confusion  between  a  brother 
and  a  sister  in  the  disguise  of  a  boy  as  in  Twelfth  Nighty 
and  the  amorous  complications  which  ensue  are  of  like  import 
in  both  comedies.  One  of  Larivey's  most  interesting  innova- 
tions is  his  exclusive  and  Insistent  use  of  prose.  Larivey 
argued  with  greater  force  than  Le  Jars,  and  proved  by 
more  efficient  practice,  that  verse  was  alien  to  first-rate  comic 
dialogue.  Moliere  may  be  regarded  as  one  of  Larivey's 
disciples,  and  from  him  Larivey's  application  of  prose  to  French 

^  Though  Larivey  was  born  in  Troyes  his  father  was  a  near  kinsman 
of  the  Giunti,  the  Florentine  family  of  printers,  and  his  surname,  which 
was  originally  written  L'Arrive,  literally  translates  the  Italian  participle 
gijt?ito,  i.  e.  come,  arrived.  Larivey  obtained  high  church  preferment  in 
France,  but  devoted  much  of  his  time  to  translation  from  the  Italian. 
His  labours  include  a  F>ench  rendering  of  the  second  book  of  Straparola's 
Nights,  a  popular  collection  of  Italian  romances. 


412   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

comedy  received  its  final  sanction.  In  Elizabethan  England 
the  employment  of  prose  in  the  comic  scene  is  partly  due 
to  Italian  tuition.  But  France  must  be  credited  with  taking 
through  Larivey's  agency  a  direct  hand  in  the  instruction. 

Larivey's  best  comedy,  called  Les  Esprits  (Ghosts),  comes 
from  an  Italian  comedy  by  Lorenzino  de'  Medici,  entitled  Ari- 
dosio^  which  itself  borrows  much  from  Latin  comic  writers  for 
the  stage.  The  leading  characters  are  two  old  men,  one  genial 
and  generous,  the  other  gruff- tempered  and  avaricious,  and 
the  central  episode  is  a  trick  played  on  the  old  miser,  in  the 
interest  of  an  ill-used  son  and  daughter,  by  an  insolent  valet 
who  frightens  the  old  man  out  of  his  house  and  out  of  his 
treasure  by  manufacturing  a  ghost.  Character-studies  of  the 
two  old  men  abound  in  the  French  in  humorous  flashes 
which  made  the  French  dramatist's  influence  world-wide. 
Ben  Jonson,  among  Elizabethans,  most  closely  caught  Larivey's 
ambition  to  depict  men's  and  women's  humours.  Moliere's 
L'Ecole  des  Maris  is  a  descendant  of  Larivey's  Les  Esprits. 

Larivey's  conception  of  comedy  was  a  liberal  and  expan- 
sive adaptation  of  the  spirit  of  Latin  comedy  to  the  needs 
of  popular  French  taste.  In  his  own  field  of  drama,  he 
went  some  way  towards  effecting  a  reconciliation  between 
the  aims  of  the  two  rival  dramatic  schools  in  France — 
between  the  aims  of  the  champions  of  classic  conformity, 
and  of  popular  licence.  With  an  insolent  disdain  of  each 
other's  pretensions  the  rivals  had  been  fighting  for  pre- 
dominance through  a  generation,  and  Larivey's  compromise 
pointed,  in  the  sphere  of  comedy,  the  road  to  peace.  At  the 
very  end  of  the  sixteenth  and  at  the  opening  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  there  seemed  a  likelihood  of  a  similar  accom- 
modation in  other  regions  of  drama.  A  formal  fusion  was 
attempted  between  the  classical  form  of  tragedy  and  the 
popular  conceptions  of  romance  and  melodrama.  The  en- 
deavour was  far  more  thoroughgoing  than  anything  at  which 
Montchretien  aimed.  During  the  last  half  of  Shakespeare's 
career,  and  for  twenty  years  afterwards,  France  seemed  to  be 
pursuing  the  same  dramatic  ideal  of  romanticism  and  emanci- 
>pated  classicism  which  prevailed  in  England.      The  French 

V 


ALEXANDRE  HARDY'S  INNOVATIONS       413 

drania  of  the  new  type  of  tolerance  was  uninspired  by  poetic 
and  lyric  fervour.  No  l-Vench  tragedy,  no  romantic  comedy 
of  the  epoch  can  be  justly  mentioned  in  the  same  breath  as 
any  work  of  vShakespeare.  But  there  was  alive  in  France  for 
a  generation,  which  covered  Shakespeare's  middle  and  later 
years,  a  theatrical  instinct  w^hich  appeared  to  be  driving 
drama  towards  the  same  goal  as  that  which  the  Elizabethan 
and  Jacobean  playwrights  reached.  This  newest  dramatic"^ 
development  of  the  French  Renaissance  proved  transitory  ; 
the  classical  laws  soon  reasserted  their  control  of  tragedy,/ 
and  ultimately  refused  all  recognition  to  romance.  But  the' 
passing  effect  on  the  French  stage  of  the  endeavour  to  fuse 
the  two  divergent  dramatic  forms  is  well  worthy  of  study. 

It  was  from  the  independent  ranks  of  (professional  actors 
in  France  that  the  new  movement  of  compromise  sprang.  In 
1598  there  was  installed  ^t  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne  a  profes- 
'sional  company  of  actors,  which  had  gained  experience  in 
provincial  tours.  The  newcomers  developed  the  theatrical 
machinery  in  many  directions.  Scenerxjje3V  daborate  and 
Ayomen  were  soon  suffered  to  take  part  in  the  perform- 
ances. The  company  conferred  on  one  of  their  number, 
Alexandre  Hardy,  the  post  of  playwright.^ 

Hardy  repeated  in  some  degree  the  exploits  of  the  actor-  . 
author  Gringoire  half  a  century  before.    An  even  closer  parallel 
might  be  drawn  between  the  outward  facts,  the  mere  external  / 
circumstance,  of  Hardy's   career  and  those  of  Shakespeare.  ^ 
Born  in  obscurity  and  comparative  poverty  about ^  five  ^ears 
later_than jhe_great  English  dramatist,  Hardy  enjoyed  little 
education.    Like  Shakespeare  in  England,  he  in  France  joined 
while  very  young  a  company  of  professional  actors,  attending 
on  them  at  the  outset  in  a  servile  capacity.     He  accompanied 
them   on    provincial    tours,   and    finally   settled   with    them 
permanently  in  Paris.     Before  he  was  twenty-four   he   had 
developed  an  ambition  to  write  for  the  stage.     Encouraged 
by  the  manager  he  began  pouring  out,  at  an  unexampled 
pace,  tragedies,  tragi-comedies,  masques,  and  pastorals. 

It  was  in  tragedies  and  tragi-comedies  that  he  made  his  | 

^  See  Eugene  Rigal,  Alexa/id/c  Hardy  et  le  tlu'dtrefranqais,  Paris,  18S9. 


414   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

greatest  fame.  Comedy  lay  outside  his  scope.  His  masques 
and  pastorals  are  lifeless  echoes  of  Italy.  Althoug-h  he  never 
rose  far  above  the  status  of  hack-writer,  Hardy  had  original 
conceptions  of  drama.  He  had  watched  the  recent  classical 
development  of  French  tragedy,  and  he  knew  that  it 
defied  current  conditions  of  theatrical  success.  Destitute  of 
literary  grace  or  poetic  fertility,  stiff  and  bombastic  in 
expression,  Hardy  sought  to  remodel  French  drama  in  the 
light  of  his  theatrical  experience.  He  did  not  disdain  classical 
themes,  which  had  been  employed  before.  Dido,  Meleager, 
Alcestis,  Darius,  Alexander,  are  among  his  heroes  or 
heroines.  He  depended  on  Plutarch's  Lives  for  many  tragic 
plots.  But  Hardy  sought  to  set  tragedy  adrift  from  the  tram- 
mels of  the  unities  and  the  chorus.  He  increased  the  number 
of  actors ;  he  deprived  monologue  of  its  old  predominance  ;  he 
put  action  and  movement  in  its  place.  Classical  fables  re- 
mained, as  in  classical  drama,  favoured  topics,  but  he  sought 
to  endow  them  with  a  ruder  life  and  fresher  colour  than 
of  old.  At  times  he  attempts  psychological  study  in  his 
characterization.  In  his  best  tragic  drama  Ma7^taiu7ie^  the 
husband  Herod's  jealousy  of  his  wife  Mariamne  is  analysed 
with  something  of  Shakespeare's  penetration  in  Othello^  and 
Herod's  sister  Salome  fans  the  jealous  flame  in  her  brother's 
heart  with  something  of  the  Machiavellian  craft  of  lago. 

But  it  was  on  romance  or  tragi-comedy  that    Hardy   be- 
stowed   his   best    energies.      He    eagerly   raided    novels   of 
Italy  and  Spain,  which  he  read  in  French  translations.     In 
his  choice  of  tale,  he  and  Shakespeare  often  by  chance  co- 
incidence trod  on  one  another's   heels.       Hardy's   romantic 
1    comedy  of  FelisiJteue  tells  a  part  of  the  story  sti-Xhe  Two 
I    Geiiileiiieii   of  Verona ;     the   two    plays   both    owed  some- 
\    thing  to  a  translation  of  Montemayor's  Spanish  romance  of 
y  Diana.     A  tragi-comic  story,  of  a  better  sustained  pathos, 
more  powerfully  appealed  to  Hardy's  mature  taste.    He  wrote 
a  tragi-comedy,  called   Pandoste^  on   the  same    subject    as 
Shakespeare's  filter's  Ta/e—the  most  perfect  tragi-comedy 
in  the  range  of  the  Elizabethan  drama.     Like  Shakespeare, 
•*'-  Hardy    had    recourse    to    Greene's    romance    of   Paiidosto^ 


HARDY'S  CORIOLAN  415 

which  was  popular  in  a  French  translation.  Hardy's 
text  of  this  piece  is  lost,  but  we  know  its  character  not 
only  from  the  descriptive  title  which  survives,  but  from  an 
extant  scenario  which  was  prepared  for  the  scene-painter  of 
Hardy's  company.  These  two  romantic  plays — Felismene 
and  Paiidos/e— were  probably  penned  by  Hardy  after  Shake- 
speare's cognate  efforts  had  seen  the  light,  and  the  identity  of 
effort  merely  illustrates  the  parallelism  of  aim  in  the  dramatic 
activity  of  the  two  countries,  when  the  Renaissance  was 
reaching  its  close  on  both  sides  of  the  channel.  Worthier  of 
attention  is  Hardy's  dramatization  of  Plutarch's,  story  of  Corio- 
lanus,  w^hich  he  completed  in  1607,  just  a  year  before  Shake- 
spearedealt  with  the  theme.  Hardy  stated  in  his  preface  that 
'  few  subjects  will  be  found  in  Roman  history  worthier  of  the 
stage'.  None  had  tried  to  adapt  the  life  of  Coriolanus  to 
dramatic  uses  before.  Here  Hardy  adhered  more  closely  than 
was  his  wont  to  classical  canons  of  unity  and  monologue  and 
chorus.  His  play  of  CoHolan  opens  with  the  banishment  of 
the  hero,  Coriolanus's  speeches,  those  of  his  mother,  and  the 
comment  of  a  band  of  Roman  citizens,  practically  constitute 
the  whole  dramatic  theme.  Yet  the  declamatory  seed  that 
Hardy  sowed  in  Coriolan  may  have  borne  fruit  in  Shake- 
speare's Coyiolaiius^  a  tragedy  of  passion  and  action  which 
was  produced  in  London  a  year  after  its  French  prototype. 
Hardy's  play  caught  firm  hold  of  French  taste ;  Coriolanus's 
relations  with  his  mother  strongly  appealed  to  French  domestic 
sentiment,  and  there  have  been  at  least,  tw^enty-three  later 
adaptations  of  CoHolan  on  the  French  stage. 

Hardy  wrote  his  plays  for  the  actors,  and  did  not  care  that  \ 
they  should  be  published.     There  is  evidetxce  to  show  that   L^ 
before  he  died  in   1632   he  had   produced  as  many  as   700  /O 
pieces — a  prodigious  output.     Of  these  only  thirty-four  sur- 
vive.    As    Hardy's   career  was   closing,  he   permitted,  with 
hesitation    and   reluctance,  the  collective  publication   in    six 
volumes    of  thirteen   tragi-comedies,   eleven    tragedies,   five 
pastorals,  and  five  mythological  masques. 

For  the  task  of  permanently  reforming  the  French  drama, 
of  modifying  its  classical  tendency  by  mingling  it  with  roman- 


4i6   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

ticism,  Hardy  was  too  weak.  He  lacked  poetic  strength  or 
lyric  power.  Theatrical  faculty  and  immense  industry  were 
his  main  assets.  Although  he  had  a  few  disciples,  of  larger 
literary  capacity  than  his,  his  effort  bore  no  permanent  fruit. 
In  spite  of  his  example,  French  drama  soon  returned  to  the 
.old  classical  road,  with  its  strict  observance  of  the  unities  and 
Imuch  choric  elaboration.  The  genius  of  Racine  and  Cor- 
neille  in  the  next  generation  finally  gave  the  classical  principle 
of  tragedy  a  universal  vogue  in  France,  and  deprived  the 
reformers  of  their  hold  on  public  favour.  Yet  Hardy's  energy, 
although  fruitless,  claims  attention  as  the  latest  emanation 
of  the  versatile  spirit  of  the  Renaissance  in  the  development 
of  French  drama. 

VI 

The  Cognate  Development  of  French   and 
Elizabethan  Drama 

No  one  who  scans  the  development  of  drama  in  sixteenth- 
century  France  can  fail  to  be  impressed  by  the  points  of 
resemblance  with  the  dramatic  progress  of  Elizabethan  Eng- 
land. In  both  countries  two  mutually  hostile  forces  were 
at  work  together.  Reverence  for  the  austere  classical  tra- 
dition was  actively  challenged  in  both  countries  by  a  craving 
i  for  an  ampler  romanticism  and  realism.  The  relative  strength 
of  the  two  forces  differed  on  the  two  sides  of  the  Channel. 
,  The  classical  temper  dominated  the  struggle  in  France  and 
*  ultimately  won  the  victory.  The  romantic  temper  finally 
gained  an  undisputed  ascendancy  in  England.  The  fortunes 
of  the  warfare  consequently  varied  in  the  two  lands.  But  the 
same  seed  of  strife  was  sown  in  the  two  countries,  and  bore 
abundant  fruit  in  each.  The  true  relation  which  subsists 
between  the  dramatic  movements  of  France  and  England 
in  the  Renaissance  era  can  only  be  diagnosed  when  due 
recognition  is  made  of  two  features  of  the  situation  which  are 
often  ignored — namely,  the  classical  influences  which  were 
operative  in  Elizabethan  drama,  and  the  romantic  and  realistic 
influences  which  were  operative  in  the  French  drama  of  the 
sixteenth  century. 


VICISSITUDES  OF  CLASSICAL  LAW        417 

Although  the  classical  proclivities  of  tragedy  and  comedy 
were  from  the  first  more  pronounced  in  France  than  in  England, 
yet  it  was  from  classical  soil  that  the  Elizabethan  drama  also 
sprang.  However  boldly,  too,  Elizabethan  drama  defied  in  its 
maturity  classical  rule  it  continued  to  cherish  pride  in  its  early 
classical  associations.  The  voice  of  scholarship  never  com- 
manded in  England  the  attention  which  was  accorded  it  in 
France,  but  the  scholars'  cry  for  classical  form  and  classical 
topic  in  drama  was  never  silent  among  Shakespeare's  country- 
men. Scholarly  critics  of  drama  in  both  countries  were  at 
one  in  deploring  the  popular  divergences  from  the  classical 
paths.  The  alienation  was  condemned  as  a  concession  to 
barbarism  by  the  critical  schools  of  both  nations. 

inizabethan  culture  endeavoured  for  a  season  to  stem  the 
rising  tide  of  non-classical  dramatic  licence  by  a  direct  appeal 
to  French  classical  example.  Garnier's  guidance  seemed  to 
offer  Elizabethan  lawlessness  a  means  of  regeneration.  There 
were  circulated  English  translations  of  Garnier's  orthodox 
tragedies,  and  the  translations  were  followed  by  independent 
imitation.  But  Garnier's  authority  only  carried  conviction  to 
the  critical  clique  of  Elizabethan  England.  Professional  play- 
wrights'^t  the  Elizabethan  era  acknowledged,  often  with  a 
show  of  regret,  that  public  appetite  demanded  the  less  regular 
fare  of  romanticism  or  realism.  Classical  themes  still  found 
a  home  on  the  popular  stage.  Roman  history  provided  the 
heroes  of  numerous  Elizabethan  tragedies.  Even  after  the 
banishment  of  the  classical  formulae  from  the  popular  play- 
house, the  classical  device  of  the  Chorus  survived  in  modified 
shapes.  But  the  austere  classical  spirit  was  declared  by  the 
popular  voice  to  be  tame  and  lifeless  beyond  redemption. 

There  was  much  in  the  contemporary  fortunes  of  the 
French  theatre  to  stimulate  and  to  justify  the  Elizabethan 
repudiation  of  classical  law.  The  classical  canons  of  unity,  the 
prominence  of  the  Chorus,  the  presence  of  declamation  or 
narration  in  place  of  action,  conflicted  on  both  sides  of  the 
Channel  in  the  last  half  of  the  sixteenth  century  wath  most  of 
the  conditions  of  popular  taste.  In  French  drama  the  classical 
ideal  was  often  boldly   challenged,  and  the  struggle   of  the 

Li-.E  E  e 


41 8    FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

French  theatre  for  a  larger  liberty  and  complexity  adumbrated 
many  of  the  Elizabethan  experiences.  France,  in  the  closing- 
years  of  the  Renaissance,  showed  much  of  England's  impatience 
of  the  classical  bonds  ;  tragi-comedy,  in  which  romance  defied 
the  law  of  classical  sublimity,  was  riveting  its  hold  on  the 
French  stage. 

The  influence  of  French  drama  on  Elizabethan  England  was 
by  no  means  limited  to  propagating  the  orthodox  classical 
creed.      French  drama  of  both  classical  and  popular  kinds 
presented  many  topics  and  situations  which  gave  Elizabethan 
dramatists  of  the  free  romantic  school  serviceable  hints.  Some 
coincidences  in  the  subject-matter  of  Elizabethan  and  contempo- 
rary French  drama  may  be  accidental.  It  is  imprudent  to  assume 
invariably  a  direct  indebtedness.       Elizabethan   and   French 
dramatists  occasionally  sought  their  plots  independently  in  the 
same  Greek,  Latin,  or  Italian  sources.    Euripides  and  Plutarch, 
Plautus  and  Seneca,  Boccaccio  and  Bandello  all  fathered  plays 
in  both  France  and  England.    Cognate  pieces  abound,  and  the 
family  resemblances  often  come  from  acommunity  of  ancestors 
;  rather  than  from  any  immediate  lineal  tie.     France,  however, 
long  anticipated  England  in  drawing  on  the  old  classical  and 
Italian   stock.     The  French  precedent  frequently  proved  the 
efficient  cause  of  an  Elizabethan  tragedy  or  comedy  on  a 
Greek,  Latin,  or  Italian  topic  which  was  previously  naturalized 
in  France.     Like  the  French  writers  of  irregular  drama,  the 
Elizabethans  were  especially  attracted  by  the  Italian  romances 
of  Boccaccio  and  of  Bandello,  his  sixteenth-century  successor. 
French  renderings  of  Italian  tales  were  more  accessible  to  the 
Elizabethans  than  the  original   versions.      It  was  either   the 
French  translations,  or  the  French  dramatizations,  of  Italian 
romance  which  repeatedly  gave  the  Elizabethan  playwrights 
their  cues.     Each  case  of  coincident  plot  must  be  judged  on 
its  merits,  and  it  is  not  always  easy  to  pronounce  a  decisive 
verdict,   but    the   probabilities   are    constantly    in  favour   of 
French  suggestion. 

In  regard  to  one  category  of  dramatic  topics  which  won 
popularity  on  both  sides  of  the  Channel,  Elizabethan  drama  was 
obviously  subject  to  the  direct  influence  of  France.    Almost  as 


THE  BIRTH  OF  ELIZABETHAN  COMEDY    419 

free  use  was  made,  in  the  Elizabethan  theatre  as  in  the  popular 
French  theatre,  of  political  and  polemical  incident  of  recent 
French  history.  French  affairs  were  closely  watched  by  those 
who  provided  the  Elizabethan  public  with  realistic  or  topical 
drama ;  hVench  statesmen  and  generals  who  enjoyed  con- 
temporary fame  were  heroes  of  the  realistic  stage  in  London, 
almost  as  frequently  as  in  Paris. 


VII 

Elizabethan  Comedy  and  Franco-Italian  Dialogue 

We  have  already  seen  that  Tudor  England  mainly  borrowed 
from  contemporary  France  the  fashion  of  the  interlude,  which 
in  the  last  years  of  Henry  VlII's  reign  heralded  the  coming 
of  Elizabethan  comedy.  Foreign  guidance,  other  than  French, 
was  soon  enlisted  in  the  task  of  moulding  the  Elizabethan 
type  of  comedy,  and  of  developing  its  satiric,  farcical,  and 
romantic  lineaments.  Through  the  middle  years  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  Latin  and  Italian  comedy  was  in  sporadic 
process  of  adaptation  to  requirements  of  English  taste.  The 
archetypal  English  comedy  Ralph  Roister  Doister^  w^hich 
was  written  about  1540  by  Nicholas  Udall,  a  head  master  of 
Eton,  for  his  pupils  to  act,  crudely  paraphrased  Plautus's  Latin 
comedy  of  Miles  Gloriosiis.  The  piece  was  a  pedagogic 
exercise  in  farce.  The  performance,  which  was  for  the  time 
an  isolated  episode,  belongs  to  the  annals  of  the  country's 
educational  rather  than  of  its  literary  progress.  There  is  no 
link  here  between  English  and  French  dramatic  endeavour. 
An  adaptation  of  Plautus's  play  was  attempted  in  France  at 
a  later  date.^  No  French  influence  is  discernible  in  Udall's 
comic  crudities,  which  were  a  somewhat  barbarous  fruit  of  the 
revived  interest  in  the  classics. 

But  the  next  phase  stands  in  a  different  light.  George 
Gascoigne,  rather  than  Udall,  deserves  the  credit  of  inaugurat- 

^  For  the  French  rendering,  De  Baif,  one  of  Ronsard's  best-endowed 
lieutenants,  was  responsible.  Baif's  Brave,  on  Taillelnas,  which  was 
performed  in  the  Hotel  de  (aiise  in  1567,  presented  Plautus's  comedy 
with  far  more  artistic  feeling  than  is  discernible  in  Udall's  Roister  Doister. 

E  e  2 


420   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

ing  Elizabethan  comedy,  and  he  was  wholly  inspired  by  con- 
tinental example.      The  first  regular  English  effort  in  the 
comic  branch  of  dramatic  art  was  Gascoigne's  Supposes.    The 
play  was  produced  in   1566  by  lawyers  of  Grays  Inn.      The 
f^London  barristers  were  therein,  consciously  or  unconsciously, 
Vemulating  a  prescriptive  habit  of  the  lawyers  of  Paris, — '  Les 
Clercs  de  la  Basoche.'     Gascoigne's  Supposes.,  which  mingles 
romance  with  farce,  was  a  translation  from  the  Italian  prose 
of  Ariosto's  Gli  Supposiii,  but  French  suggestion  is  apparent. 
Gascoigne,  the  English  author,  was  a  close  student  of  current 
French  literature.     He  was  well  versed  in  the  poetry  of  Marot, 
\    and   in   a   treatise   on    English   metre — '  Certayne   Notes   of 
\  Instruction  ' —  he  dwelt  on  the  forms  of  verse  '  commonly  used 
1  by  the  French'.      Ariosto's  comedy  was  popular  in  France. 
As  early  as  1542  there  had  been  published  in  Paris  a  French 
translation,  which  was  printed  side  by  side  with  the  Italian. 
The    French    writer    called    his    version    '  La    Comedie   des 
Supposes '.      In    his    prologue    Gascoigne    admits    that    his 
hearers  may  well  be  puzzled  to  know  '  the  meaning  of  our 
supposes  ',  and   he  interprets  the  strange  and  unauthorized 
noun    as    '  mystakings    or    imaginations    of  one    thing    for 
another'.      His    novel    title  came    from    the    French    model, 
which  stirred  his  ambition  to  plant  regular  comedy  on  English 
soil.^ 

Gascoigne's  effort   proved  popular  in    England,  and   one 

incident   in    the  story   of  its  vogue   illustrates   the   bearing 

of  French  agencies  on   Shakespearean  drama.     Gascoigne's 

comedy  supplied  the  underplot  of  Shakespeare's  Taming  of 

I  the  Shi^ew.     The  disguises  and  mystifications  which  attended 

(    the  amorous  adventures  of  the  shrew's  younger  sister,  Bianca, 

I  are  borrowed  from  the  Italian  comedy  which  Gascoigne  para- 

\  phrased  at  the  prompting  of  PYance.    Shakespeare's  responsi- 

^bility  for  the  subsidiary  scenes  of  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew 


^  A  free  French  metrical  version  by  Jean  Godard  of  Ariosto's  comedy 
was  printed  under  the  title  of  Les  Desguisez  in  1594.  On  October  2, 
1595,  a  year  after,  the  English  theatrical  manager  Henslowe  produced 
a  (lost)  piece  called  Tlie  Disguises,  which  translates,  there  can  be  no 
doubt,  the  new  French  recension  of  Gli  Stippositi. 


PARISIAN  INFLUENCE  421 

has  been  cfuestioned,  but  the  continental  affinities  of  the  piece 
are  not  thereby  affected. 

Comedy  of  romantic  intrigue  in  England  was  deeply  in- 
debted to  Italian  drama  for  its  subsequent  development,  but 
English  study  of  Italian  effort  continued  to  obey  French  guid- 
ance. The  French  stimulus  in  the  field  of  comedy  often  lost 
little  of  its  force,  when  it  was  itself  tributary  to  the  Italian, 
The  triumphant  career  of  Larivey,  who  planted  Italian 
comedy  firmly  on  the  Parisian  stage,  quickened  the  Eliza- 
bethan progress  alike  in  intrigue  and  in  the  fantastic 
conceits  of  comic  dialogue.  It  is  easy  to  show  the  process 
at  work.  One  of  Larivey 's  most  popular  efforts,  Le  Fidelle^ 
was  an  adaptation  of  an  Italian  comedy  of  intrigue,  II  Fedele, 
by  a  writer  named  Luigi  Pasqualigo.  The  piece  which  was 
published  at  Venice  in  1574  obtained  more  conspicuous  fame 
abroad  than  in  Italy,  No  sooner  had  the  French  adapter 
given  it  a  Parisian  vogue  than  at  least  two  Elizabethan 
Englishmen  sought  to  familiarize  their  fellow  countrymen 
with  it.  The  classical  and  the  popular  schools  of  Elizabethan 
England  were  both  clearly  attracted  by  the  popularity  which 
the  Italian  piece  acquired  in  France,  Abraham-Fraunce,  a 
strenuous  advocate  of  the  classical  law  of  drama,  turned 
Pasqualigo's  effort  into  Latin  under  the  title  of  Victoria,  the 
name  of  one  of  the  heroines.  Anthony  Munday^  an  active 
champion  of  the  new  romantic  movement,  produced  as  early 
as  1584  an  English  translation  under  the  designation  of  The 
pleasaiuit  and  fine  conceited  Comedie  of  Tzuo  Italian  Gentle- 
men} Munday's  rendering  is  crude  and  clumsy.  All  is  in 
verse,  and  for  the  most  part  in  rambling  lines  of  varying  lengths 
wdiich  occasionally  reach  sixteen  syllables.^     Snatches  of  both 

'  Fraunce's  Latin  comedy  was  first  printed  from  the  manuscript  at 
Penshurst  by  Prof.  G,  C.  Moore-Smith  in  Bang's  Materialien  sur 
Kundc  lies  cilteren  englischen  Dramas,  Band  xiv,  Louvain,  1906. 
Munday's  EngHsh  version  was  reprinted  from  the  copy  at  Chatsworth 
by  Fritz  Fliigge  in  Archiv  fiir  das  Studiuin  der  neueren  Sprachen  und 
Liieraturen  (1909),  xxiii  (new  sen),  pp.  45-80. 

2  The  following  incantation  is  a  typical  example  of  the  normal  metre 

(11.  487-92):- 

This  water  and  this  oil  I  have,  is  conjured  as  you  see, 
In  the  name  of  those  sprites  that  written  on  this  image  bee. 
Now  must  I  write  the  name  of  him  whom  you  so  much  do  love  : 
Then  bind  these  sprites,  him  to  the  like  affection  for  to  move. 


422   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

Latin  and  Italian  occasionally  adorn  the  dialogue.  But  the 
Eni^lish  translator  retains  little  of  the  sprightly  temper  of  the 
Italian  original,  and  when  we  contrast  the  Elizabethan  version 
with  the  French  adaptation,  which  is  a  free  and  idiomatic 
expansion  of  the  Italian  text,  we  recognize  how  greatly  the 
spirit  of  comedy  in  France  already  excelled  in  point  and 
vivacity  the  comic  forces  that  were  operating  at  the  moment 
in  England  and  Italy. 

Shakespeare's  efforts  in  romantic  comedy    bear   abundant 

signs  of  Italian  influence.     But  it  was  rarely  that  he  sought 

direct  access  to  the  Italian  sources.     Italian  inspiration  usually 

reached  him  through  French  or  English  translation.     There 

is  evidence  in  the  case  of  Pasqualigo's  comedy  of  //  Fedele 

that  Shakespeare  knew  not  only  Munday's  English  version, 

but  Larivey's  expansive  adaptation  in  the  French  language 

/as  well.     Shakespeare,  in    The  Tzvo  Geutleuieii  of  Verona, 

I  turned   to  account  Munday's    title    of  the    Italian    piece  and 

^some  of  the  incidents  and  phraseology  of  the  English  render- 

\;  ing.     Shakespeare's  '  Two  Gentlemen ',  like  the' Two  Italian 

>(      Gentlemen  '  of  Munday,  pay  addresses  to  two  Italian  ladies 

and  in  the  evolution  of  the  plot  exchange  their  mistresses. 

There  is  no  question  that  that  cynical  episode  of  intrigue  w^as 

an  invention  of  the  Italian  drama,  which  Munday  conveyed  to 

Shakespeare.^ 

I  charge  you  as  you  mean  to  purchase  favour  in  his  sight  : 
And  by  the  virtue  of  mine  art,  tell  me  his  name  aright. 
r  Occasionally  the  six-line  stanza  of  Ve/ius  and  Adonis  is  used  : 
I  serve  a  mistress  whiter  than  the  snow, 
Straighter  than  cedar,  brighter  than  the  glass. 
Finer  in  trip  and  swifter  than  the  roe, 
More  pleasant  than  the  field  of  flow'ring  grass. 
More  gladsome  to  my  withering  joys  that  fade, 
Than  winter's  sun,  or  summer's  cooling  shade  (11.  216-21). 
Shakespeare  in  his  early  dramatic  works  employs  at  times  the  same 
stanza  (cf.  Love's  Labour's  Lost,  I.  i.  147-58,  iv.  iii.  210-15.  and  Komco 
and  Juliet,  I.  ii.  45-50,  88-93,  v.  iii.  12-17,  304-9)- 

^  The  exchange  in  the  Italian  piece,  as  of  the  French  version,  is  not 
a  temporary  phase  of  the  story,  as  in  Shakespeare's  comedy,  but  is  the 
final  denouement,  while  Victoria,  the  mistress  of  one  of  the  two  heroes,  is 
already  another's  wife,  a  debasing  circumstance  from  which  Shakespeare's 
play  is  free.  Shakespeare  borrowed  other  hints  for  his  7'-u'o  Gentlemen  from 
the  Spanish  romance  oi Diana,  by  Montemayor,  where  Felismena's  pursuit 
in  masculine  disguise  of  her  lover,  Don  Felix,  adumbrates  Julia's  pursuit 


PEDANTRY  IN  ELIZABETHAN  COMEDY      423 

Larivey's  best  defined  contribution  to  the  development  of 
Shakespearean  comedy  touches  a  different  issue.     The  con- 
ceited dialog-ue  of  Renaissance  comedy  was  largely  of  Italian 
origin,  but  it  was  greatly  developed  by  the  French  gift  for 
badinage,     Larivey  has  some  claim  to  the  title  of  European 
master  of  eccentric  pedantry  on  the  comic  stage.     Munday 
gives  small  indication  of  the  dramatic  capacity  of  pedantic 
humour,     Larivey's  versions  of  Pas(iuahgo's  //  Fedele  and 
other  Italian  comedies  first  Invested  the  dialogue  of  subsidiary 
characters    like    gallants,    schoolmasters,    serving-men,    and 
clowns  with  that  note  of  quibbling  whimsicality  which  became 
habitual  to  the  Elizabethan  theatre.'     Shakespeare's  comical  > 
'  chop-logic '  and  punning  by-play  have  a  colour  which   Is 
more  French  than  Italian.     Shakespeare's  comedy  of  Loves 
Labour's    Lost,    probably    his    first    dramatic    experiment, 
reflects,  as  we  shall  see,  much  that  was  passing  at  the  time  in 
France.    It  Illustrates  the  Ehzabethans'  tendency  to  weave  Into 
their  plots  actual  incidents  or  personages  which  were  exciting 
attention  across  the  English  channel.     Here  It  Is  more  per- 
tinent to  observe  that  the  protagonists  engage  In  a  '  civil  war 
of  wits '  the  temper  of  which  has  French  analogues.      The 
mock-learning  of   the    French    schoolmaster   Holofernes   In 
Shakespeare's  Loves  LaboiLV 's  Lost  and  the  later  echoes  of 
the  same  note  on  the  lips  of  the  Welsh  schoolmaster.  Sir  Hugh 
Evans,  In  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  as  well  as  on  those  , 
of  the   pretended   tutor,  Lucentio,  in   The  Taming  of  the  I 
ShrezL\  approximate  with  astonishing  closeness  to  the  currentj 
French  comic  dialogue  which  expands  or  re-fashions  Italian 
affectations.    In  Larivey's  popular  French  play  Le  Fidelle,  the 
pedant  on  whom  the  French  author  bestows  the  original  name 
of  M.  Josse,  talks  a  dialect  which  is  indistinguishable  from  that 

of  Proteus  in  Shakespeare's  play.  But  there  is  only  one  gentleman  lover 
in  the  Spanish  story  ;  the  duplication,  which  is  the  essence  of  Shake- 
speare's play,  is  alone  anticipated  by  Pasqualigo,  Larivey,  and  Munday. 
^  John  Lyly  seems  to  have  been  the  first  Elizabethan  comic  writer  to 
naturalize  on  a  small  scale  this  continental  fashion.  Lyly's  comedies, 
which  for  the  most  part  adapt  themes  of  classical  mythology,  present 
detached  examples  of  such  quick  repartee  as  Larivey  actively  developed 
under  Italian  tuition.     Shakespeare  passed  early  beyond  Lyly's  bounds. 


424   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

of  Shakespeare's  Holo femes.  Munday's  bald  language  gives 
a  very  imperfect  notion  of  the  pedantic  vein  of  pleasantry. 
A  few  quotations  will  bring  home  the  debt  which  much 
of  whimsical  dialogue  in  r^Hzabethan  comedy  owed  to  the 
French  bettering  of  the  Italian  instruction. 
Some  of  M.  Josse's  phrases  run  thus  : 

Comme  il  est  escrit  d'Ulisse,  on  en  peut  autant  dire  de 
moy  :  Qui  mores  honiinuin  viultoruin  vidit  et  iirbes  .  .  } 

Or,  maintenant,  je  cognoy  estre  vray  ce  que  dit  nostre 
Nason  :  Littore  tot  cone  ha  e,  tot  sin  it  in  amove  dolot^es  .  .  .- 

Si  tu  ne  I'entend,  tu  es  comme  morte,  nam  sine  doctrina 
vita  est  gnasi  mortis  imago  .  .  .•' 

O  fcejuinam  acntissimam  f  elle  contrefait  encores  sa  voix 
pour  n'estre  cogneue.  Comme  dit  bien  le  bon  Naso,  sapientem 
faciebat  amor.^ 

In  conversation  with  Babille,  a  maidservant,  the  pedant 
acquits  himself  in  a  fashion  which  is  peculiar  to  Larivey  : 

Babille.  Le  seigneur  Fidelle  sont-il  en  la  maison  ? 

M.  Josse.  Fa;mina  proterva^  rude,  indocte,  imperite, 
ignare,  indiscrette,  incivile,  inurbaine,  mal,  morigeree,  igno- 
rante,  qui  t'a  enseigne  a  parler  en  ceste  fa^on  ?  Tu  as  fait 
une  faute  en  grammaire,  une  discordance  au  nombre,  au  mode 
appele  nominativiis  cum  verbo^  pour  ce  que  Fidelle  est 
7ULmeri singjilaris^  et  sont  7iumeri phiralis,  et  doit-on  dire: 
est-il  en  la  maison  ?  et  non  :  sont-ils  en  la  maison  ? 

Babille.  Je  ne  S9ay  pas  tant  de  grammaires. 

M.  Josse.  Voicy  une  autre  faute,  un  tres  grand  vice  en 
Toraison,  pour  ce  que,  comme  dit  Guarin,  la  grammaire  estant 
art  rede  loqnendi  recteqne  scribendi,  ja9oit  qu  en  plusieurs 
langues  elle  soit  escritte,  n'est  pourtant  sinon  un  seul  art, 
parquoy  envers  les  bons  autheurs  ne  se  trouve  grammatice 
grammaticartim.,  ne  plus  encores  que  tritica  triticoriim.,  et 
arene  arenamm^  car  il  se  dit  tant  seulement  au  singulier  .  .  .^ 

A  scene  in  Larivey  s  Le  Laquais — an  adaptation  of 
Lodovico  Dolce 's  Ragazzo~\)X^^vs,  another  schoolmaster 
Lucian,  in  discourse  with  Maurice,  a  recalcitrant  pupil : 

L,ucia7i  {inaitre  es  arts)  .  ,  .  tu  n'asois  accoustume  passer 

^  Viollet-Le-Duc's  Ancien  Theatre,  vi,  p.  319.  "  Ibid.,  p.  349. 

^  Ibid.,  p.  372.  Cf.  the  dialogue  between  Malvolio  and  the  Clown  in 
Twelfth  Night,  iv,  ii.  40  seq. :  '  I  say  there  is  no  darkness  but  igno- 
rance,' &c. 

^  Ibid.,  p.  445.  *  Ibid.,  p.  371. 


LARIVliY'S  PP:DANTS  425 

uii  jour  sans  me  niontrcr  ciuckjue  theme  ou  epigramme;  nunc 
vera,  et  credo  quae  /una  quatey  lafnit^  tu  ne  me  montres 
amplius  ny  prose  ny  vers,  et  ne  hantes  les  escoles,  com  me 
avois  accoustume,  ou,  si  tu  y  vas,  tu  oy  seulement  une  le9on, 
et  puis  adieu. 

Maurice  (eleve).  Ne  sgavez-vous  cjue  diet  Terence  ? 

Lucian.  Quidinquit  comic  us,  nosier Ji/i}  II  a  une  memoire 
tresague. 

Maurice.  Haec  dies  aliam  vitani  adfert,  alios  mores 
postulate  s'il  men  souvient. 

Lucian.  lia  est,  mais  tu  ne  penetres  bien  la  mouelle  de 
ceste  tant  belle  sentence. 

Maurice.  Exposez-la. 

Lucian.  Terence  veut  inferer  que,  quand  I'enfant  est  sorty 
de  I'age  pueril  et  entre  en  I'adolescence,  comme  tu  es  ;  tunc 
alors,  haec  dies,  ce  temps,  adfert  ameine,  aliam  viiam  une 
autre  vie,  et  ipsa  subintelligitur  aetas  vel  dies,  postzilat  re- 
quiert,  alios  mores  autres  moeurs  ou  fa^ons  de  vivre :  id  est 
qu'il  devroi  tretenir  en  soy-mesme  un  peu  plus  de  gravite,  et 
laisser^^?;/?///.?,  du  tout,  les  fa^ons  pueriles,  &c.  .  .  . 

The  dialogue  takes  a  more  comic  turn,  when  Valere,  an 
impudent  serving-man,  invites  the  tutor  to  let  him  share  the 
instruction,  and  fails  to  distinguish  between  Latin  words  and 
French. 

Valere.   Cuj'um  pecus,  est-ce  Latin  ou  fran9ois  ? 
Lucian.  C'est  tresbon  Latin,  et  fut  chante  par  ce  Mantuan, 
qui  modula  Titire,  tu  patulae. 

A  very  narrow  interval  here  separates  the  Elizabethan  comic 
writer  from  the  French.  It  is  in  the  strain  of  Larivey's  M.  Josse 
or  of  his  Lucian  that  Holofernes  fashions  his  snatches  of  Latin 
and  of  affected  English  which  he  addresses  indiscriminately  to 
the  ignorant  constable  Dull,  to  the  villager  Costard,  to  the  wench 
Jacquenetta,and  to  the  curate  Sir  Nathaniel,  whose  parishioner's 
sons  he  tutors.  Shakespeare's  note  is  at  times  more  boisterous 
and  exuberant,   but  the  key  is  identical.^     Holofernes'  simi- 

1  The  pedagogue  Lydus  in  Plautus's  Bacchidcs  seems  to  be  the  archetype 
of  the  schoohnaster  in  the  comedy  of  the  Renaissance.  But  the  concep- 
tion was  greatly  developed  first  by  the  comic  writers  of  Italy  and  then  by 
those  of  France.  Shakespeare's  pedant,  Holofernes,  is  of  the  type  of  Sir  , 
Philip  Sidney's  Rombus,  in  his  fantastic  masque  The  Lady  of  the  May 
(a  work  which,  aUhough  Sidney  wrote  it  in  1579,  was  not  printed  till  159S).  , 
Rombus,  a  village  schoolmaster,  there  talks  in  a  vein  which  adumbrates    \ 


426   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

larity  of  phrase  may  be  judoed  from  the  following  passages  : 
'  Meherclef  if  their  sons  be  ingenuous,  they  shall  want  no  in- 
struction .  .  .  But,  vir  sapit  qui pauca  loquitur.  .  .  Fausie, 
precor  gelida  quaiido pectis  ouiue  sub  umbra  Ruminai,  and 
so  forth.     Ah,  good  old  Mantuan.'  ^ 

Here  is  a  sample  of  the  conversation  in  which  Holofernes 
engages  with  the  curate  vSir  Nathaniel  and  the  constable  Dull : 

Holofernes.  The  deer  was,  as  you  know,  sanguis,  in  blood  ; 
ripe  as  a  pomewater,  who  now  hangeth  like  a  jewel  in  the 
ear  of  caelo,  the  sky,  the  welkin,  the  heaven  ;  and  anon  falleth 
like  a  crab  on  the  face  q{  terra,  the  soil,  the  land,  the  earth. 

Nathaniel.  Truly,  Master  Holofernes,  the  epithets  are 
sweetly  varied,  like  a  scholar  at  the  least ;  but,  sir,  I  assure 
ye,  it  was  a  buck  of  the  first  head. 

Hoi.  Sir  Nathaniel,  hand  credo. 

Dull.  'Twas  not  a  haud  credo  ;  'twas  a  pricket. 

Hoi.  Most  barbarous  intimation  !  yet  a  kind  of  insinuation, 
as  it  were,  in  via,  in  way,  of  explication  ;  facer e,  as  it  were, 
replication,  or,  rather,  ostentare,  to  show,  as  it  were,  his 
inclination,  after  his  undressed,  unpolished,  uneducated,  un- 
pruned,  untrained,  or,  rather,  unlettered,  or  ratherest,  uncon- 
firmed fashion,  to  insert  again  my  haud  credo  for  a  deer. 

Dull.  I  said  the  deer  was  not  a  haud  credo:  'twas  a 
pricket. 

Hoi.  Twice-sod  simplicity,  bis  cocius  \ " 

Nor  is  any  violent  difference  discernible  between  the 
mannerism  of  Larivey's  characters,  M.  Josse  and  Lucian, 
and  that  of  Sir  Hugh  Evans  when,  with  digressive  irrelevance 

rto  the  dramatic  scheme,  he  asks  his  pupil  William  Page  '  some 
questions  in  his  accidence '   {Merry    Wives,  IV.  i.  passim). 

.   Mistress  Quickly 's  futile  interruptions  seem,  too,  to  reflect  the 

that  of  Holofernes  in  Shakespeare's Z^?7v'jZr?<^^)//r  VZ^j/,  which  was  penned 
about  1591,  seven  years  before  the  publication  of  The  Lady  of  the  May. 
But  Shakespeare's  pedants,  Holofernes  and  Sir  Hugh  Evans,  seem  cast 
in  the  mould  of  Larivey  rather  than  of  the  Frenchman's  Italian  prototypes 
or  of  any  English  master. 

^  Lcn'e's  Labour  's  Lost,  IV.  ii.  80-98. 
1  >*  Ibid.,  IV.  ii.  3-22.  On  Sir  Nathaniel's  poetic  experiments  Holofernes 
I  comments  (iv.  ii.  125  sq.)  in  M.  Josse's  precise  vein  thus:  'Let  me 
L  supervise  the  canzonet.  Here  are  only  numbers  ratified  ;  but,  for  the 
I  elegancy,  facility,  and  golden  cadence  of  poesy,  ca)ct.  Ovidius  Naso  was 
\  the  man  ;  and  why,  indeed,  Naso,  but  for  smelling  out  the  odoriterous 
flowers  of  fancy,  the  jerks  of  invention  ? ' 


TH]<:  RlSl^  OF  ELIZABETHAN  TRAGEDY     +27 

hurk'sciui'  inisuiuU'rstandin^s  of  Larivcy's  maid-servant  Babille  I 
or  of  his  lackey  Valere  in  the  jircsence  of  his  pedants  M.  Josse  J 
and  Lucian. 

Evans.  What  is  he,  William,  that  does  lend  articles  ? 

Ullliaui.  Articles  are  borrowed  of  the  pronoun,  and  be 
thus  declined,  Siiigulariter,  noiiniiativo,  hie,  haec,  hoc. 

Evans.  Noiinnaiivo,  hig^  hag,  hog\  pray  you,  mark: 
geniiivo,  hnj'ns.     Well,  what  is  your  accusative  case  ? 

William.  Accnsativo,  hiuc. 

Evans.  I  pray  you,  have  your  remembrance,  child  ;  accu- 
sal ivo,  hung,  hang,  hog. 

Qnickly.  Hang  hog  is  Latin  for  bacon,  I  warrant  you. 

The  likeness  between  Larivey's  and  Shakespeare's  exercises 
in  pedantic  quip  may  be  best  explained  by  the  theory  that  the 
Franco-Italian  dialogue  of  comic  pedantry  caught  the  ear  of 
the  great  writer  of  Elizabethan  comedy,  and  stirred  him  to 
feats  of  emulation. 


VIII 

The  Early  Fortunes  of  Elizabethan  Tragedy 

The  Latin  writer  Seneca  deserves  to  be  reckoned  the  father 
of  tragedy  in  England.  It  was  under  his  exclusive  inspiration 
that  Goi'boduc,  the  first  English  tragedy,  was  written  in  1560, 
two  years  after  Queen  Elizabeth's  accession.  Two  lawyers 
of  the  Inner  Temple  were  authors  of  the  play,  and  it  was  first 
acted  by  gentlemen  of  their  Inn  of  Court.  For  tragedy  as 
for  comedy  English  barristers  rendered  English  dramatic  lite- 
rature a  service  very  like  that  which  Parisian  lawyers—'  Les 
clercs  de  la  Basoche'-  had  already  rendered  dramatic  literature 
of  France. 

At  the  date  of  the  production  of  Gorboduc  the  Greek 
drama  was  far  less  known  in  this  country  than  in  France. 
The  study  of  Seneca  was  rarely  qualified  by  that  of  Aeschylus, 
Sophocles,  or  Euripides.  Greek  guidance  was,  however,  soon 
sought  at  second  hand.  George  Gascoigne,  author  of  the  first 
regular  English  comedy  oi  Supposes,  is  here  again  the  pioneer. 
The  second  Engllshjragedyi^/^^^JVV?,  came  from  his  pen,  and 


428   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

it  emulated  at  a  distance  the  Greek  type.  Jocasia  was  an 
adaptation  of  liuripides'  Phoeiiissae.  But  there  is  no  ground 
for  assuming  that  Gascoigne  had  direct  recourse  to  the  Greek 
original.  Nor  was  there  any  French  translation  of  the 
Phoenissae  w'hen  Gascoigne  adapted  the  theme  to  purposes 
of  English  drama.  It  was  an  Italian  version  by  Ludovico  Dolce 
which  jhe.  English  writer  followed.  The  English  tragedy 
of  Jocasta  obeys  the  classical  canons  of  chorus,  unity,  and 
monologue  more  closely  than  its  predecessor  Gorboduc.  Its 
mould  is  almost  identical  with  that  of  Jodelle's  Cleopdii^e  or 
Garnier's  Conielie,  and  it  familiarized  cultured  society  in 
England  with  the  processes  of  tragic  composition  which  were 
already  in  operation  in  France. 

If  English  tragedy  threatened  at  its  birth  to  pursue  a  classical 
path  under  Italian  rather  than  under  French  direction,  it  showed 
during  its  infancy  a  tendency  to  defy  pre-existing  convention 
for  which  France  must  be  credited  with  a  partial  responsi- 
bility. There  were  early  signs  of  deviation  into  those  irregular 
by-ways  which  the  popular  French  drama  had  begun  to  tread. 
The  first  steps  which  popular  tragedy  took  in  Elizabethan 
England  were  discouraging  to  cultured  onlookers  who  hoped 
to  identify  it  wath  classical  traditions.  The  first  results  accentu- 
ated all  the  least  admirable  features  of  the  popular  movement 
in  France.  It  was  no  real  blemish  that  the  plot,  as  in  France, 
should  be  sought  outside  Greek  myth  or  Roman  legend,  or 
that  themes  of  romance  or  of  modern  history — '  les  nouveaux 
arguments  ' — should  be  presented  with  the  frequency  to  which 
the  popular  stage  of  France  gave  its  sanction.  But  the  rise 
of  the  profession  of  actor  and  the  first  organization  of  the 
theatre  in  England  seemed  likely  not  merely  to  drive  the 
infant  Elizabethan  tragedy  altogether  out  of  classical  channels 
but  to  plunge  it  irretrievably  into  ignoble  streams  of  coarse 
and  extravagant  sensation.  The  scenes  of  turgid  rant  and 
sanguinary  violence  discredited  by  their  uncouthness  the 
popular  development  across  the  Channel.  The  infant  tragedy 
of  Elizabethan  England  loved  '  inexplicable  dumb- shows  and 
noise ',  and  revelled  in  the  accumulation  of  mysterious  and 
blood-curdling  crimes. 


THE  DF.GKNERACY  OF  ENCxLISH  TRAGEDY     429 

In  its  wholesale  defiance  of  classical  canons  the  construc- 
tion of  early  popular  tragedy  in  Elizabethan  England  went  in 
all  directions  beyond  continental  limits.  The  law  of  unity 
vanished  altogether  ;  the  Chorus  dwindled  to  the  dimensions 
of  prologue  or  epilogue  of  an  Act ;  choric  debates  within  the  1 
play  disappeared,  and  their  place  was  often  filled  by  digres- 
sions into  farce.  The  London  stage  in  Shakespeare's  boyhood 
made  a  grotesque  effort  to  continue  the  allegorical  tradition 
of  the  old  '  morality  '.  Allegoric  symbolism  had  never  been 
wholly  abandoned  in  Paris,  but  grim  statuesque  figures  per- 
sonifying abstractions  like  Lust,  Jealousy,  or  Murder,  walked 
the  London  boards  more  often  than  the  Parisian.  The 
boisterous  encroachment  of  farce  on  the  tragic  domain  had, 
too,  its  foreign  precedent ;  the  professional  rulers  of  the 
Hotel  de  Bourgogne  encouraged  it ;  it  was  a  universal  mark 
of  the  popular  revolt  against  the  classical  convention  of 
austerity.  But  the  mingling  of  rough  merriment  with  tragic 
gloom  won  a  wider  vogue  in  England  than  anywhere  else. 
'  Lamentable  tragedies  mixed  full  of  pleasant  mirth  ' — plays 
which  associated  stories  of  revolting  crime  with  scenes  not 
merely  of  romance  but  of  horseplay — were  incongruities  which 
were  rare  outside  the  early  playhouses  in  England,  The  first 
Elizabethan  play-goers  fed  eagerly  on  such  confused  and 
discordant  fare  which  was  inferior  in  literary  dignity  or 
dramatic  flavour  to  any  of  its  continental  analogues. 

When  Shakespeare  was  entering  manhood,  English  tragedy 
of  popular  acceptance,  though  so  new  a  growth,  gave  little 
artistic  or  literary  promise.  The  w^orst  French  examples 
were  of  a  more  hopeful  design.  Popular  English  tragedy 
offered  in  its  infancy  few  titles  to  respect.  To  rescue  it 
from  a  premature  degeneracy  needed  strong  hands  of  genius, 
which  happily  were  not  wanting. 

Two  policies  of  reformation  were  initiated  very  soon  after 
Shakespeare's  professional  career  opened  about  the  year 
1587.  One  policy  sought  to  counteract  the  current  sensational 
extravagance  and  brutalities  by  infusion  of  poetic  dignity  and 
romantic  glamour.  The  other  policy  aimed  at  a  return  to  the 
laws  of  classical  simplicity.     The  active  champions  of  both 


430   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

remedial  policies  turned  to  France  for  aid  and  support.  The 
effort  to  enforce  the  classical  ideal  proved  a  failure  ;  the  effort 
to  fuse  tragedy  with  poetry  and  romance  won  lasting  triumphs. 
France  more  actively  encouraged  the  classical  movement  than 
the  poetic  and  romantic  endeavour ;  but  French  influences 
were  at  work  in  both. 

/^Marlowe  led  the  way  to  a  poetic  reform  of  Elizabethan 
Vdrama.  He  created  the  English  art  of  tragedy.  France  only 
offered  him  subsidiary  inspiration,  but  his  pioneer  effort  has 
many  links  with  what  was  passing  in  that  country.  His 
career  and  achievements  bore  a  strange  resemblance  to  those 
of  Etienne  Jodelle,  the  dramatic  pioneer  of  the  Pleiade  school 
some  forty  years  before.  The  likeness  of  the  two  men's 
fortunes  and  labours  impressed  Elizabethan  critics,  and 
Marlowe's  name  was  from  an  early  date  associated  with  that 
of  his  PVench  predecessor. 

The  striking  similarity  between  the  sensational  ways  in 
which  the  French  and  English  creators  of  tragic  art  met 
death,  especially  helped  to  bring  the  dramatic  movements  of 
the  Renaissance  in  the  two  countries  within  one  perspective. 
Jodelle 's  career  ended  in  1573  at  the  early  age  of  forty-one 
amid  degrading  disease  and  want.  To  him  there  clung 
the  same  suspicions  of  atheism  as  darkened  Marlowe's 
sordid  death,  twenty  years  later,  in  a  tavern  brawl  at  the 
'^age  of  thirty.  A  Puritan  schoolmaster,  who  was  soon  to 
reckon  Cromwell  among  his  pupils,  called  attention  to  the 
coincidence  as  early  as  1597.  He  narrated  how  the  French 
tragical  poet  Jodelle  'being  an  Epicure  and  an  Atheist, 
made  a  very  tragical  and  most  pittifull  end ;  for  he  died  in 
great  miserie  and  distresse,  euen  pined  to  death,  after  he  had 
riotted  out  all  his  substance,  and  consumed  his  patrimonie  '. 
A  few  pages  onwards  the  same  author  tells  how  Marlowe,  '  one 
of  our  own  nation,  of  fresh  and  late  memorie,'  rivalled  Jodelle 
not  only  in  his  atheism  and  impiety,  but  also  in  the  manner  of 
his  punishment.^  The  parallel  was  not  forgotten.  A  year 
later— in    1598 — Francis   Meres,    an    Elizabethan    student  of 

1  Thomas  Beard's  Theatre  of  Goifs  Judgements  (1597),  3rd  ed.,  revised 
and  augmented  (1631),  pp.  146,  149. 


MARLOWE  AS  REFORMER  431 

comparative  literature,  who  pronounced  Shakespeare  to  be  the 
greatest  genius  of  the  age,  drew  more  emphatic  attention  to 
the  coincidence.  '  As  JoDKl.LR,  a  French  tragical  poet,'  wrote 
Meres,  '  being  an  Epicure  and  an  Atheist,  made  a  pitiful  end  ; 
so  our  tragical  poet  Marlow,  for  his  Epicurism  and 
Atheism,  had  a  tragical  death.'  ^  Marlowe  and  Jodelle  shared 
the  common  fate  of  reformers  whose  vision  was  wider  than 
that  of  their  neighbours.  Each  was  the  father  of  tragic  arti 
in  his  own  countr}\  ' 

Christopher  Marlowe,  the  founder  of  Elizabethan  tragedy, 
echoed  the  ambition  of  the  French  leaders  of  the  Pleiade  when 
in  1589  in  the  prologue  of  his  earliest  play,  Tambtirlaine,  he  , 
declared   war   on  the   past  age  of  drama  with  its  'jigging  [ 
veins  of  rhyming  mother  wits,  and  such  conceits  as  clownage 
keeps  in  pay  '.     Marlowe  promised  to  show  the  world  how  \  * 
'  high  astounding  terms  '  were  essential  elements  of  tragedy. 
This   was   the   spirit   that  awoke  and  flourished  in    France 
some  forty  years  before,  and  led  Du  Bellay  in  the  name  of 
the  Pleiade  to  decree  the  banishment  q>{  softies  and  badi'neries, 
of  farces   and   moralities,   from    the    French    theatre.      The     . 
decree  was  only  partially  effective  across  the  channel.     The 
proclamation  was  often  repeated  there.     Twenty  years  after 
Du  Bellay 's    manifesto  and   twenty   years  before  Marlowe's 
fulmination,  the  classical  tragedian  Jean  de  la  Taille  impres- 
sively   warned    the    French    theatre    anew    against    '  telles 
badineries  et  sottises  qui  comme  ameres  espiceries,  ne  font  que 
corrompre  le  goust  de  notre  langue '.     Marlowe's  aspirations 
had  ample  French  precedent. 

Marlowe  showed  faith  in  the  main  principle  of  classical 
tragedy  by  concentrating  his  energy  on  the  portrayal  in 
elevated  language  of  colossal  types  of  passion.  Of  classical 
law  he  was  careless  ;  he  practically  eliminated  the  Chorus ;  he 
neglected  the  unities ;  he  presented  violent  action  on  the 
stage  ;  nor  could  he  check  his  tendency  to  bombast.  Yet  the  > 
spirit  of  his  work  has  classical  aflSnities,  and  there  are  indica- 
tions that  he  was  familiar  with  current  French  developments 
not  merely  of  classical,  but  of  popular  drama.     Under  such 

^  Meres,  Palladis  Tainia  (1598)  :  Arber,  E7ii;;lish  Garficr,  vol.  ii,  p.  103. 


432    FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

influences  Marlowe  sought  to  lift  Elizabethan  tragedy  out  of 
the  depths  which  it  touched  before  he  began  his  campaign 
of  poetic  reform. 
'  Marlowe,  like  Jodelle,  wrote  a  tragedy  of  Dido.  Although 
a  comparison  of  the  two  pieces  suggests  little  direct  indebted- 
ness on  the  part  of  the  English  author  to  his  French  pre- 
decessor, there  are  characteristic  points  of  contact.'  Both 
paraphrase  Vergil  freely.     In  some  respects  Marlowe  is  more 

f  loyal  to  the  classical  story.  He,  like  the  Roman  poet,  and 
unlike  the   French  tragedian,  introduces  Juno,  Jupiter,  and 

\  Venus  as  effective  controllers  of  the  action.  The  hosts  of 
heaven  exaggerate  in  Marlowe's  tragedy  the  magisterial 
functions  of  the  old  Chorus.  Impatient  of  the  unity  of  time, 
Marlowe    expands   Jodelle's    narrow    canvas    by    presenting 

/  Aeneas's  amorous  adventure  from  the  hour  that  he  is  wrecked 

\  on  the  Carthaginian  coast  until  his  departure  three  or  four 
I  weeks  later  and  Dido's  subsequent  suicide.  Poetic  feeling 
reaches  a  loftier  key  in  Marlowe's  work  than  in  the  French. 
But  the  tone  of  passion  is  at  times  indistinguishable.  Dido's 
parting  cry  in  the  two  plays  well  illustrates  both  the  similarity 
and  dissimilarity  of  the  styles  in  adapting  the  poetry  of 
Vergil.  The  passage  runs  thus  in  Jodelle  {Qijivres,  Paris, 
1868,  i.  221): 

Quant  a  vous  Tyriens,  d'une  eternelle  haine 

Suiuez  a  sang  &  feu  ceste  race  inhumaine  ! 

Obligez  a  tousiours  de  ce  seul  bien  ma  cendre, 

Qu'on  ne  vueille  iamais  a  quelque  paix  entendre. 

Les  armes  soyent  tousiours  aux  armes  aduersaires, 

Les  flots  tousiours  aux  flots,  les  ports  aux  ports  contraires. 

Que  de  ma  cendre  mesme  un  braue  vangeur  sorte. 

Que  le  foudre  &  I'horreur  sus  ceste  race  porte. 

Voila  ce  que  ie  dy,  voila  ce  que  ie  prie, 

Voila  ce  qu'a  vous  Dieux,  6  iustes  Dieux,  ie  crie. 

'  The  topic  oi  Dido  was  very  familiar  in  Italy  before  and  after  Jodelle's 
time.  A  lost  Italian  tragedy  of  the  name  is  assigned  to  the  year  15 10. 
Lodovico  Dolce  published  a  second  piece  called  Didonc  Tragedia  in  1547, 
and  Giraldi  Cinthio  followed  with  yet  a  third  in  1583.  Cinthio  closely 
anticipates  Marlowe  in  his  frequent  introduction  of  Juno,  Venus,  Cupid, 
and  Mercury.  Cinthio's  third  act  opens  with  a  long  monologue  spoken  by 
Fama,  which  owes  much  to  Vergil,  and  seems  to  adumbrate  many  similar 
prologues  of  Rumour  in  Elizabethan  drama. 


MARLOWE'S  MASSACRE  AT  PARIS       433 

In  Marlowe,  Dido's  speech  takes  this  form  : 

And  now,  ye  gods,  that  guide  the  starry  frame, 
And  order  all  things  at  your  high  dispose. 
Grant,  though  the  traitors  land  in  Italy, 
They  may  be  still  tormented  with  unrest ; 
And  from  mine  ashes,  let  a  conqueror  rise, 
That  may  revenge  this  treason  to  a  cjueen, 
By  ploughing  up  his  countries  with  the  sword. 

IX 

Current  French  History  on  the  Elizabethan  Stage 
Dulo  holds  a  modest  place  in  the  catalogue  of  Marlowe's 
dramas.      Its    suggestion    of    the    influence    of   continental 
classicism    lends    it     its    chief    literary    interest.      Another 
of  Marlowe's   minor    dramatic   endeavours   brings   him   into 
closer    relation    with    the     popular     French    drama    which 
dealt  with  contemporary  French   affairs.     His  Massacre  at 
Paris  crudely  but  vividly  presents  not  only  the  Bartholomew 
Massacre  of  1572,  but  the  sequence  of  stirring  events  in  Paris 
which  issued  in  the  assertion  of  Henry  of  Navarre's  claim  to 
the  French  throne  in  1589.     Marlowe's  piece,  which  has  only 
three_Acts,  and  is  cast  in  the  mould  of  the  dramatic  chronicle, 
echoes    rapidly   a    series    of   French    plays    portraying    the 
crimes  of  the  Guises.     In  the  First  Act  the  opening  scenes 
show  Charles  IX,  the  French  king,  in  colloquy  with  the  Duke 
of  Guise,  Coligny,  and  the  Huguenot  leaders;  at  its  close  the 
St.  Bartholomew  massacre  is  realistically  pictured,  together 
with  the  murders  of  Coligny  and  Ramus.     In  the  Second  Act 
Charles  IX  dies,  and  is  succeeded  by  his  brother  Henry  III, 
who  quickly  quarrels  with  the  Guises.  In  the  last  Act  the  Duke 
of  Guise  and  his  brother  the  Cardinal  are  murdered,  Henry  III 
is  assassinated,  and  Navarre  reaches  the  throne.     Eternal  love 
is  finally  sworn  by  the  new  French  king  to  the  Queen  of 
England  '  whom  God  hath  blest  for  hating  Foperie  '. 

Marlowe's  Massacre  at  Paris  contributed  little  to  the  artis- 
tic development  of  Elizabethan  tragedy.  Its  interest  largely 
lies  in  its  plain  indication  of  the  sort  of  dramatic  theme  and 
sentiment  which  uncultured  taste  was  still  exacting  of  Eliza- 
bethan playwrights,  after  the  inauguration  of  the  endeavour 

LEE  F  f 


434   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

to  lift  drama  to  a  high  poetic  jilane.  There  is  abundant 
evidence  in  the  diary  of  Philip  Henslowe,  a  prosperous 
manager  of  the  popular  stage,  that  Marlowe's  topical  play 
held  the  suffrages  of  the  play -going  public  for  the  long 
period  of  ten  years.  Whenever  French  affairs  attracted 
marked  notice  in  England,  Henslowe  promptly  revived 
Marlowe's  lurid  tragedy.  The  piece  is  a  first  message  from 
the  Elizabethan  stage,  of  English  sympathy  with  the  cause  of 
Henry  of  Navarre  and  the  Huguenots. 

Much    in  the   same  vein  was  to  follow  Marlowe's   tragic 
comment  on  the  French  civil  wars.     Shakespeare's  patrons, 
while  they  were  giving  sure  signs  of  an  improved  taste,  en- 
couraged theatrical  portrayals  of  sensational  crises  in  French 
affairs.     It  is  significant  that  Shakespeare  himself  courted  in 
early   life   this   topical  predilection.     The   great  dramatist's 
comedy,  Love's  Labour  's  Lost^  which  lightly  satirizes  many 
passing  events  at  home  and  abroad,  makes  free  with  the  names 
and  character  of  important  personages  in  contemporary  France. 
The  hero,  the  King  of  Navarre,  in  whose  dominion  the  scene 
is  laid,  bears  the  precise  title  of  the  Huguenot  leader  in  the 
civil  war  of  France,  which  was  at  its  height  between  1 589  and 
1594.     The  fortunes  of  the  true  King  of  Navarre,  who  was 
supported  on  the  battlefield  by  many  English  volunteers  of 
social    position,   engaged,    while    Shakespeare    was    writing 
Love's  Labo2ir  's   Lost,   much   anxious   notice   in  England, 
,  The  two  chief  lords  in  attendance  on  the  king  in  the  play, 
'  Biron  and  Longaville,  bear  the  actual  names  of  the  two  most 
active  associates  of  the  Huguenot  chieftain  across  St.  George's 
Channel.    '  Lord  Dumain  '  is  a  common  anglicized  version  of 
the  name  of  that  Due  de  Mayenne,  another  French  general  and 
statesman,  who  had  already  played  a  small  part  under  the 
like  designation  in  Marlowe's  Massacre  at  Paris.     He  was 
frequently  mentioned  in  popular  accounts  of  current  French 
affairs  in  connexion  with  the  King  of  Navarre's  movements,  and, 
although  he  belonged  to  the  house  of  Guise,  Shakespeare  fan- 
tastically numbered  him  among  his  supporters.    Shakespeare's 
comedy  is  in  most  respects  a  satiric  '  revue  '  or  '  sottie  ',  a  topical 
extravaganza.   It  is  no  serious  presentation  of  history.    But  the 


THE  GUISES  IN  ENGLISH  DRAMA  435 

dramatist  attests  in  whimsical  fashion  the  prevalent  interest 
which  current  French  poHtics  excited  in  theatrical  circles. 

Many  popular  pieces,  of  which  the  text  has  not  come  down 
to  us,  are  stated   in  theatrical  records  of  the  time  to  have 
dealt  with  the  same  theme  as  Marlowe's  Massacre  at  Paris. 
The  theatrical  manager  Henslowe  who  revived  Marlowe's  play 
under  the  name  of  The  Guise,  as  well  as  under  its  original 
title,  added  to  his  repertory,  in  the  autumn  of  1598,  a  drama 
called  The  Civil  Wars  in  France.     This  piece  was  in  three 
parts,  and  was  the  fruit  of  pens  so  eminent  as  those  of  the 
poet  Michael   Qrajton  and  the  practised   dramatist   Thomas 
Dekker.    Very  early  in  the  next  century,  on  November  3, 1601, 
Plenslowe  produced  yet  another  play  called  The  Guise,  which 
came   from  the  more  distinguished  hand  of  John  Webster. 
The   extant    French   tragedies   of  the   previous   decade,  La 
Guisiade    and    Le    Guisien,   clearly   had    a    large    English 
progeny.     One  of  the  latest  playwrights  of  the  Elizabethan 
school,  Henry  Shirley,  brother  of  James  Shirley,  the  last  sur- 
vivor of  Shakespeare's  generation,  was  responsible  for  a  tardy 
recension  of  the  w^ell-worn  story  of  the  Duke  of  Guise,  which 
is  again  no  longer  extant.      The  Guisian  topic,  indeed,  be- 
came so  embedded  in  the  tradition  of  Elizabethan  tragedy  that 
John  Dryden,  the  glory  of  English  tragedy  in  the  next  era 
of  the  Restoration,  brought  his  energies  to  bear  on  it  anew, 
in  collaboration  with  his  disciple,  Nathaniel  Lee.     A  tragedy 
called  The  Dnke  of  Guise,  which  appeared  in  1682,  was  a  joint 
production  of  Dryden  and  Lee.     Nor  did  the  succession  stop 
there.     A  different  version  of  the  story  by  Lee  alone  came  out 
in  1690  under  Marlow^e's  old  title  of  The  Massacre  of  Paris. 
The  fascination  which  current  French  history  exerted  on 
dramatic  effort  of  Shakespeare's  own  generation  is  signally 
illustrated  by  the  work  of  George  Chapman.    An  Elizabethan 
whose  classical  erudition  was  linked  with  a  rugged  force  of 
expression.  Chapman  was  deeply  read  in  French  literature, 
and  he  based  no  less  than  five  five-act  tragedies  on  more  or 
less  contemporary  themes  of  French  poirtics?"'  For  the  most 

^  Chapman's  main  authority  was  A  General  Inventorie  of  the  History 
of  Fruiue,  1607,  a  translation  by  Edward  Grimestone  from  the  French  of 

Ff2 


436   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

part  he  followed  almost  slavishly  an  English  translation  of 
a  recently  published  French  history.     His  tragedy  of  Philip 
Chabot^  Admiral  of  Finance  ^  dramatizes  the  pathetic  story  of 
a  favourite  of  Francis  I ;  the  hero,  a  man  of  integrity,  was 
wrongly  suspected  of  disloyalty,  and,  though  acquitted  of  the 
charge,  died  of  a  broken  heart.    The  protagonist  of  Chapman's 
tragedy,    Etissy   iVAinboise^   was    a   favourite   of  the    Due 
d'Alen9on,  who  was  familiar  to  Englishmen  as  Queen  Eliza- 
beth's French  suitor.    Bussy,  in  Chapman's  tragedy,  was  slain, 
owing  to  a  disreputable  intrigue  of  his  master.     Chapman 
pursued  the  course  of  events  in  a  sequel,   The  Revenge  of 
Biissy  d'Amboise^  which   told   of  the  vengeance  taken  by 
Bussy 's  brother  on  his  murderer.     There  the  assassination 
of  the  Duke  of  Guise  and  his  brother  the  Cardinal,  in  1589, 
was  once  more  handled  on  the  English  stage.      The  most 
interesting  of  these  labours  of  Chapman  were  two  further 
tragedies  which  dealt  with  the  career  of  one  of  the  best- 
known  lieutenants  of  Henry  of  Navarre  through  the  early 
years  of  his  triumph.     Monsieur  de  Biron,  whose  charming 
personality  dominated  under  his  actual  name  vShakespeare's 
Love's  Labo2ir's  Lost,  was  a  trusted  counsellor  and  friend  of 
the  Huguenot  leader  until  his  death  in  1594.     But  Biron's  son 
was   even    more   intimately   associated   with   his   sovereign's 
fortunes.     Every  dignity  that   it  was  in   the  French   king's 
power    to    bestow    on    a    subject,    the    younger    Biron    en- 
joyed, and  when   he  paid  a  visit  on  diplomatic  business  to 
Queen   Elizabeth   in    1600,  the  English    sovereign   and  her 
people  accorded  him  an  heroic  welcome.     But  his  ambition 
soon  afterwards  o'erleapt  itself     He  was  charged  with  con- 
spiring to  depose  his  generous  benefactor,  and  he  paid  for  his 
treason  on  the  scaffold.     Chapman,  in  two  tragic  pieces,  the 
one    called    Biron's    Conspiracy,   and    the    other,   Biron's 
Tragedy,  narrated  the  sad  story  of  the  unhappy  nobleman's 
fall.     The  two  plays  transcribe  passing  events  with  a  strange 
literalness.    Henry  IV  of  France,  in  Chapman's  piece,  describes 

the  Huguenot  Jean  de  Serres  (1597)  with  additions  from  Alatthieu,  Cayet, 
and  others  (see  F.  S.  Boas  in  Athenaeum,  10  Jan.  1903,  and  Modern 
Philology,  iii.  1906).  Chapman  shows  his  predilections  for  French  topics 
and  characters  in  his  comedies,  Monsieur  if  Olive  and  A  Humorous 
Dafs  Mirth.  For  Chapman's  and  other  French  dramatic  themes,  see 
F.  E.  Schelling's  Elizabethan  Drama,  ijjS-1642,  i.  414  seq. 


CHAPMAN'S  FRENCH  PLOTS  437 

the  hero's  successive  promotions  with  the  baldness  of  a  legal 
record  [Biron's  Tragedy,  Act  I,  Sc.  i) : 

When  he  was  scarce  arrived  at  forty  years, 
He  ran  through  all  chief  dignities  of  France. 
At  fourteen  years  of  age  he  was  made  Colonel 
To  all  the  Suisses  serving  then  in  Flanders  ; 
Soon  after  he  was  Marshal  of  the  Camp, 
And  shortly  after,  Marshal  General, 
He  was  received  High  Admiral  of  France 
In  that  our  Parliament  we  held  at  Tours ; 
Marshal  of  France  in  that  we  held  at  Paris. 
And  at  the  siege  of  Amiens  he  acknowledged 
None  his  superior  but  ourself,  the  King  ; 
Though  I  had  there  the  Princes  of  the  blood, 
I  made  him  my  Lieutenant-General, 
Declared  him  jointly  the  prime  Peer  of  France, 
And  raised  his  barony  into  a  duchy. 

Elsewhere  Chapman  lays  stress  on  Biron's  patriotic  service 
in  the  days  of  his  country's  deepest  distresses  : 
When  the  uncivil  civil  wars  of  France 
Had  poured  upon  the  country's  beaten  breast 
Her  batter'd  cities  ;   press 'd  her  under  hills 
Of  slaughter'd  carcasses ;  set  her  in  the  mouths 
Of  murtherous  breaches,  and  made  pale  Despair 
Leave  her  to  Ruin;  through  them  all,  Byron 
vStept  to  her  rescue,  took  her  by  the  hand  ; 
Pluck'd  her  from  under  her  unnatural  press, 
And  set  her  shining  in  the  height  of  peace.^ 

^  Bhons  Conspiracy,  Prologus.  A  curious  endeavour  to  bring  Biron's 
historic  position  home  to  the  Elizabethan  audience  is  made  by  Chapman 
in  the  closing  scenes  of  Biron's  Tragedy.  The  doomed  hero  contrasts 
his  position  with  that  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  favourite,  the  Earl  of  Essex, 
after  the  latter's  conviction  of  treason. 

Biron.  The  Queen  of  England         ] 

Told  me  that  if  the  wilful  Earl  of  Essex 
Had  used  submission,  and  but  ask'd  her  mercy, 
She  would  have  given  it,  past  resumption. 
She,  like  a  gracious  princess,  did  desire 
To  pardon  him  ;  even  as  she  prayed  to  God 
He  would  let  down  a  pardon  unto  her ; 
He  yet  was  guilty,  I  am  innocent : 
He  still  refused  grace,  I  importune  it. 
C/ianc.  This  ask'd  in  time,  my  lord,  while  he  [i.  e.  Essex]  be- 
sought it, 
And  ere  he  had  made  his  severity  known, 
Had  with  much  joy  to  him,  I  know  been  granted. 

(Biron's  'Tragedy,  Act  v,  Sc.  i.) 


438    I'RANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

A  note  of  genuine  sympathy  with  recent  sufferings  of 
France  and  Frenchmen  is  sounded  in  these  lines.  That 
note  is  characteristic  of  all  Chapman's  dramatic  handling  of 
French  political  topics.  Only  a  corresponding  sentiment  on 
the  part  of  his  Elizabethan  audience  would  have  justified  his 
persistent  devotion  to  the  drama  of  current  French  history. 
From  the  period  of  Marlowe's  rise  to  that  of  Shirley's  fall, 
strong  links  in  the  chain  which  bound  the  France  of  Ronsard 
and  Montaigne  to  the  England  of  Shakespeare  and  Bacon  are 
discernible  in  English  by-ways  of  popular  tragedy. 


X 

Romantic  Tragedy,  and  other  Irregular  Dramatic 
Developments 

Active  as  were  Elizabethan  dramatists  in  treating  con- 
temporary French  affairs,  the  theme  only  sustained  a  sub- 
sidiary current  of  the  mighty  dramatic  movement.  The  main 
stream  flowed  in  the  broader  channels  of  poetic  sublimity  or 
living  action  to  which  Marlowe's  genius  had  pointed.  Finally 
the  reformed  drama  travelled  far  beyond  the  bounds  which 
he  had  known,  and  absorbed  in  its  onward  course  elements  of 
penetrating  introspection  and  romantic  passion,  of  which  he  as 
pioneer  had  dim  perception.  The  generation  that  succeeded 
Marlowe  was  swayed  by  his  defects,  as  well  as  by  his  merits. 
There  was  room  for  purgation  in  the  work  of  his  disciples 
as  well  as  for  processes  of  broadening  and  of  deepening. 
Marlowe  interspersed  his  majestic  efforts  in  poetic  tragedy 
with  much  rant.  Many  of  his  successors  were  less  richly 
endowed  than  he  with  poetic  genius,  and  in  their  tragic  work 
developed  more  of  his  extravagances  than  of  his  dignity. 

Yet  Marlowe's  tragic  aim  of  stateliness,  which  accorded 
with  the  classical  canons  of  Europe,  left  an  indelible  im- 
pression on  his  own  and  the  next  generation.  He  excited 
a  dread  of  the  ignoble  lowering  of  the  tragic  standard  to  the 
debased  level  of  the  previous  era.  Thomas  Kyd,  a  pupil  of 
Marlowe,  whose  sanguinary  tragedies  achieved  even  greater 


ROMEO  AND  JULIET  IN  FRENCH  439 

popularity  than  his  master's  on  the  Elizabethan  stage,  echoed, 
despite  his  inferior  powers  of  execution,  Marlowe's  plea  for 
elevation  in  tragic  theme  and  treatment. 

Comedies  [he  declared]  are  fit  for  common  wits ;  .  .  . 
Give  me  a  stately  written  tragedy. 
Tragedia  cothiwnata,  fitting-  kings, 
Containing  matter,  and  not  common  things.' 

Romance  held  an  inconspicuous  place  in  Marlowe's 
scheme  of  tragedy.  His  disciples  endeavoured  to  supply 
this  want.  Kyd  mingled  scenes  of  romance  with  his  tragic 
violence,  and  the  popular  drama  of  France  was  well  qualified 
to  help  him  there.  Kyd  was  well  acquainted  with  current 
developments  of  tragedy  in  Italy  and  France,  and  when,  in 
his  most  popular  piece.  The  Spanish  Tragedy,  he  intro- 
duces the  device  of  a  play-scene  in  anticipation  of  the  familiar 
episode  in  Hauilet,  his  characters  profess  knowledge  and 
study  of  histrionic  methods  of  both  France  and  Italy,  Kyd's 
hero  insists  on  the  need  of  rapidity  in  production  to  give 
impressive  effect  to  tragedy,  and  he  speaks  of  the  French 
modes  from  personal  experience. 

I  have  seen  the  like  j 

In  Paris,  mongst  the  French  tragedians. ^ 

Kyd's  contemporaries  raised  no  question  that  the  French 
theatre  could  teach  much  to  Englishmen. 

Shakespeare's  genius  for  romance  was  of  too  original 
a  compass  to  owe  much  to  foreign  sustenance.  But  it  is 
significant  that  Shakespeare's  first  original  experiment  in 
romantic  tragedy,  Romeo  and  Juliet,  treated  a  theme  which 
had  already  served  theatrical  purposes  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Channel,  In  1580  there  was  performed  at  the  French 
court  before  Henry  III,  a  tragedy  founded  on  Bandello's 
tale  of  Romeo  and  Juliet,  The  author  was  a  professional 
actor  in  the  royal  service  who  held  the  honorary  rank 
of  royal    valet  de    chanibre:'     It   is   curious   to   note   that 

'  Kyd's  Sfanish  Tragedy,  iv.  i.  156-60. 

-  Ibid.,  IV.  ii.  166-7.  " 

^  According  to  La  Bibliotheque  fran<^oise  (vol.  ii),  by  Antoine  da 
\'erdier,  Sieur  de  Vauprivas,  which  was  first  published  at  Lyons  in  1585, 
'  Cosine  La  Gambe  dit  Chasteau-Vieu.x  a  recite  plusieurs  comedies  ct 


440   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

in  England  the  king's  players— of  whom  Shakespeare  was 
one— received  from  James  I  the  like  titular  recognition  of 
'  grooms  of  the  royal  chaml)er '.  The  French  tragedy  of 
Romeo  et  Jnlietle  is  not  known  to  be  extant,  but  the  con- 
temporary evidence  of  its  production  is  of  undisputed  authen- 
ticity. There  is  no  ground  for  crediting  it  with  the  lyric 
splendour  or  tragic  intensity  of  vShakespeare's  effort,  but  a 
ray  of  reflected  glory  from  that  supreme  masterpiece  illumines 
the  record  of  the  French  actor's  earlier  labour. 

Tragedy,  comedy,  and  romance  did  not  exhaust  the  energies 
of  the  Elizabethan  dramatists,  and  everywhere  French  pre- 
cedent is  recognizable.  Mediaeval  tradition,  in  England  as  in 
France,  still  encouraged  fresh  experiments  on  the  pattern  of 
the  old  moral  or  scriptural  play,  and  the  scriptural  and  moral 
drama  of  the  Elizabethan  age  borrowed  suggestion  of  the 
French  theatre.  Of  the  scriptural  drama  of  the  Elizabethan 
[era  a  representative  example  is  George  Peele's  The  Love 
of  King  David  and  fair  Bethsabe,  wi/h  the  tragedie  of 
Absalon.  This  paraphrase  of  the  Bible  story  is  a  con- 
tinuous piece  without  division  into  acts  or  scenes,  and  was 
often  acted  in  London  before  its  publication  in  1599.  Peele's 
work,  in  spite  of  its  superiority  in  dramatic  movement  and 
scenic  construction,  has  affinities  with  the  French  presen- 
tation of  the  same  scriptural  theme  in  Des  Masures'  David 
coinbattant,  fngitif  triomphani  (1566).  Montchretien's 
David^  on  f  Adnltere^  which  is  cast  in  the  classical  mould, 
was  written  almost  contemporaneously  with  Peele's  work  ; 
its  production  corroborates  the  affinities  of  dramatic  aim  in 
the  two  countries  at  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

The  '  morality  '  of  the  ancient  pattern  was  practically  swept 

tragedies  devant  le  roi  Charles  IX  et  le  Roi  a  present  regnant  (Henri 
III),eten  a  compose  quelques-unes,  assavoir  Le  capitainc  Bonboujle  et 
Jodcs,  comedies,  Romeo  et  Juliette  et  Edouard  i-oi  d  Afigleterre,  tragedies 
tirees  de  Bandel,  Alaigre,'  &c.  The  dramatic  author,  Chateau  Vieux,  who 
is  thus  seen  to  have  penned  two  (lost)  tragedies  on  Italian  tales  by  Bandello, 
won  great  fame  as  an  actor  at  court,  chiefly  in  comic  roles.  In  \'auquelin  de 
la  P'resnaie's  L Art  poetiqite  f7'anqo!s,  which  was  written  before  1589, 
though  it  was  not  published  till  1605,  '  Chateau  Vieux,  le  brave  farceur,'  is 
twice  mentioned  with  great  commendation.  In  one  place  he  is  credited 
with  '  la  douceur  '  both  in  writing  and  in  speaking  dramatic  verse  (Vau- 
qucliii,  Diverses  Poesies,  cd.  Travers,  1869,  vol.  i,  pp.  26,  85). 


THE  ELIZABETHAN  'MORALITY'  441 

away  by  the  new  dramatic  movement,  but  a  few  l^>lizabethan 
survivals  betray  the  activity  of  foreig-n  influences.  The  general 
situation  may  be  gauged  by  the  history  of  two  English 
sj:)ecimens  belonging  respectively  to  the  beginning  and  end  of 
Queen  Elizabeth's  reign.  About  1561  there  was  first  published 
'  Acertaine  tragedie  entituled  1^'reewyl  '.  The  work  is  a  con- 
tribution to  polemical  theology  on '  moral '  lines.  It  champions 
allegorically  Protestant  doctrine  against  the  papal  creed.  The 
original  source  of  this  controversial  drama  is  an  Italian  Tra- 
gedia  dellibero  arbitn'o,  which  was  first  published  in  1546.  A 
Erench  version,  Tragedie  dii  Roy  Franc-ai'bHi'c,  came  out  at 
\^illefranche  in  the  south  of  France  in  1558,  and  a  Latin  transla- 
tion of  the  French  in  the  following  year  at  Geneva.  The  English 
rendering  holds  the  fourth  place  in  the  succession,  at  the  head 
of  which  stand  versions  in  Italian  and  French.  The  fact  illus- 
trates that  England  was  still  travelling  slowly  in  the  rear  of  her 
neighbours.  In  the  case  of  the  second  typical  moral  play  of 
the  Elizabethan  era,  which  was  written  at  the  extreme  end  of  the 
sixteenth  century, France  supplies  the  sole  inspiration.  A '  farce 
nouvelle  des  cinq  sens  de  I'homme ',  in  which  '  Bouche '  (i.  e. 
mouth)  plays  a  chief  part,  was  produced  in  Paris  about  1550. 
This  French  '  morality  '  suggested  '  Lingua,  or  The  Combat 
of  the  Tongue,  and  the  Five  Senses  for  Superiority,  a  pleasant 
Comedie ',  which  was  written  by  Thomas  Tomkis,  fellow  of 
Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  before  Queen  Elizabeth  died.^ 

Other  dramatic  experiments  in  Elizabethan  England  which 
were  without  ancient  sanction,  mediaeval  or  classical,  were  of 
foreign  origin,  but  they  came  from  Italy  rather  than  from 
P'rance.  The  new  forms  of  masque  and  pastoral  found  at  the 
extreme  end  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign  among  her  subjects 
a  first  audience  which  quickly  grew  in  eagerness  and  number 
during  the  reign  of  her  successor.  The  English  pastoral  drama 
was  a  direct  offspring  alike  in  France  and  England  of  recent 
Italian  effort.  Tasso's  Aininla  (1581)  and  Guarini's  Pastor 
Fido  (1590)  are  the  parents  of  both  French  and  English 
pastoral   plays.     Three    P^rench   renderings   of  Auiinta    (of 

^  The  French  farce  is  printed  in  Viollet-Le- Due's  Ancien  i/icdlrc 
fraii^ais,  vol.  iii.     The  English  comedy  was  first  published  in  1607. 


44^    FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

1584,  1593,  and  1596)  and  one  of  Pasior  Fido  (of  1593) 
chiefly  broug-ht  the  pieces  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Eliza- 
bethans. The  French  versions  failed  to  modify  the  Italian 
tone  and  colour,  and  the  influence  which  they  exerted  was 
predominantly  Italian.  The  Elizabethan  and  Jacobean  masque 
is  also  the  child  of  Italian  parentage.  The  French  form  of 
the  English  word  bears  witness  to  French  agency  in  bringing 
to  England  the  Italian  inaschera  or  mascheraia.  But  the 
English  masque  embarked  on  its  main  career  after  the  Eliza- 
bethan era — strictly  speaking — closed,  and  it  is  not  necessary 
here  to  apportion  the  varied  foreign  influences— of  Greece  as 
well  as  of  France  and  Italy — which  went  to  its  final  evolution. 

XI 

The  Classical  Reaction  ix  Elizabethan  Tragedy 

The  enthronement  of  Romance  in  the  realm  of  Elizabethan 
tragedy  rendered  irreparable  the  breach  with  classical  tradi- 
tion. But  it  was  with  misgivings  that  the  classical  law  of 
Tragedy  was  abandoned  b}-  scholarly  Elizabethans,  and  the 
triumph  of  Romance  failed  to  still  the  doubts  of  conservative 
■•  culture.  When  Marlowe  was  preaching  his  new  creed  of 
dramatic  freedom  and  poetic  dignity,  an  endeavour  was  made 
to  elevate  English  tragedy  by  a  different  process,  by  a  revival 
of  the  classical  dispensation  which  frowned  on  romantic  experi- 
ment. Although  the  attempt  failed,  it  was  slow  to  acknowledge 
defeat.  Its  history  bears  interesting  testimony  not  only  to  the 
current  state  of  critical  opinion  in  England  but  to  the  in- 
veterate reliance  of  cultured  sentiment  on  French  taste. 

While  Elizabethan  tragedy  was  yet  in  its  turbulent  and 
•  unregenerate  infancy,  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  the  chief  Elizabethan 
champion  of  the  principles  of  the  continental  Renaissance, 
waved  with  new  energy  the  classical  banner.  In  his  Apology 
for  Poetry  Sidney  warned  English  dramatists  of  the  peril 
that  they  ran  in  neglecting  classical  rules  of  tragedy  which 
alone  made  for '  honest  civility  and  skilful  poetry  '.  Sidney's 
ideal  of  dramatic  perfection  was  the  style  of  Seneca  with 
his  '  stately  speeches ',  his  '  well  sounding  phrases  ',  and   his 


ELIZABETHAN  ADMIRATION  OF  GARNIER   443 

'  notable  morality  '.  He  even  complained  that  Gorhnduc,  the 
archetype  of  English  tragrcdy,  was  '  very  defections  in  the 
circumstances',  and  could  not  serve  as  'an  exact  model'. 
'The  two  necessary  comi)anions  of  all  corporal  actions'  in  ^ 
the  theatre  were  the  unities  of  time  and  place,  to  which 
h^lizabethan  tragedy  from  the  first  paid  scant  respect. 

Sidney  admitted  that  the  sins  of  Gorbodnc  were  nothing 
in  comparison  with  those  of  its  defiant  and  decadent  suc- 
cessors. There  the  action  moved,  he  lamented,  from  Asia  to 
Africa,  and  even  to  the  under-kingdoms  of  the  world.  The 
stage  was  in  quick  succession  a  garden,  a  rock,  a  cave,  a  battle- 
field. Within  two  hours'  space  a  child  might  be  born  and  grow 
to  manhood.  Crimes  of  repellent  brutality  were,  too,  com- 
mitted in  sight  of  the  audience.  Especially  bitter  was  Sidney's 
denunciation  of  mongrel  tragi-comedy — of '  tragical  mirth ' — 
in  which  hornpipes  were  matched  with  funerals,  to  the  sacrifice 
of  the  genuine  spirit  of  comedy  and  tragedy  alike.  vSidney 
finally  cited  as  best  worthy  of  study  and  imitation  the  Latin 
tragedies  on  conventional  classical  lines  of  Buchanan,  the 
vScottish  scholar  who  had  been  a  professor  at  a  French 
University  and  had  reckoned  Montaigne  among  his  pupils. 

vSidney's  counsel  carried  little  weight  with  popular  opinion. 
I^nglish    tragedy    found    ultimate    salvation    in    poetry    and    I 
romance    which    ignored    the    classical    canons.      Marlowe 
devised   the  only  path   in  tragic  art  that  could   satisfy  the 
national   sentiment.      Yet   while    Marlowe's   pen    was   active 
strenuous  efforts  were  initiated  to  purify  ihe  turbid  stream  of 
F2lizabethan  tragedy  by  a  liberal  assimilation  of  classical  theme 
and  mould.    The  new  school  of  conservative  reformers  sought  \ 
the  aid  of  Garnier,  the  latest  and  the  best-endowed  apostle  of  ' 
classical  tragedy  in  France. 

The  inauofurators  of  the  classical  reaction  inherited  the 
literary  feeling  and  ambition  of  vSir  Philip  Sidney  who  was 
patron-saint  of  the  new  movement.  His  accomplished  sister, 
the  Countess  of  Pembroke,  and  his  intimate  friend,  Fulke 
Greville,  were  leaders  of  the  classical  champions,  and  their 
influence  easily  led  professional  men  of  letters  to  give  their 
efforts  some  practical  aid.     The  ablest  adherent  of  the  move- 


444   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

ment  was  the  poet  wSamuel  Daniel,  while  Thomas  Kyd  turned 
aside,  at  the  prompting  of  the  Countess  of  Pembroke,  from 
his  unlicensed  pursuit  of  popular  favour  to  supplement  the 
countess's  endeavours  as  a  translator  of  Garnier  into  English. 
The  popular  irregularitiesinspired  even  the  practised  dramatists 
of  the  day  with  uneasiness. 

The  Countess  of  Pembroke  took  the  first  effective  step. 
'  The  Tragedieof  Aittonie^  done  into  English  by  the  Countess 
of  Pembroke  '  was  the  literary  labour  which  occupied  her 
leisure  during  the  summer  and  autumn  of  1590.^  Marlowe 
was  then  in  the  full  flush  of  his  fame,  and  Shakespeare  was  just 
about  to  challenge  fate  with  his  Romeo  and  Juliet^  a  romantic 
type  of  tragedy,  which  was  already  known  to  France  but  was 
new  to  England.  The  countess  translated  the  Alexandrines 
of  Garnier  s  regular  tragedy  of  Marc-Anioine  into  English 
blank  verse,  which  was  very  literal  and  none  too  graceful. 
She  cast  the  choruses  into  the  six-,  eight-,  and  eleven-lined 
stanzas  of  the  French.  The  brief  play,  which  is  in  iiQur^cts, 
brings  events  only  as  far  as  the  death  of  Antony,  The 
countess's  crude  English  hardly  did  justice  to  the  clear 
current  of  the  French  style,  and  its  obvious  inadequacy  was 
not  of  good  augury  for  the  future  of  the  classical  reaction. 

But  the  countess's  energy  stirred  emulation  in  abler  pens. 
Under  her  auspices  Thomas  Kyd  forsook  his  full-blooded 
work  in  irregular  tragedy  of  the  stamp  of  his  Spanish  Tra- 
gedy^ in  order  to  give  the  English  public  a  better  taste 
of  Garnier's  quality.  Kyd  undertook  to  translate  two  of 
Garnier's  tragedies  —  Cornelie  (Pompey's  widow)  and  Porcie 
(Brutus's  wife).  The  promise  of  Porcie  remained  unful- 
filled. Kyd's  rendering  of  the  French  dramatist's  Cornelie 
was  duly  published  in  1594.  The  English  tragedian  in 
the  preface  expresses  a  warm  admiration  for  '  that  excel- 
lent poet,  Ro :  Garnier ',  and  apologizes  for  the  '  grace  that 
excellent  Garnier  hath  lost  by  my  default'.  He  commends 
the  tragedy  as  'a  fair  precedent  (i.e.  example)  of  honour, 
magnanimity,  and  love '.     Kyd's  style  as  a  translator  is  more 

'  It  was  first  published  in  1592.  A  reprint,  edited  by  Alice  Luce,  was 
issued  at  Weimar  in  1897. 


DANIEL  AS  GARNIKR'S  PUPIL  445 

facile  than  that  of  his  patroness.  But  his  literal  method,  like 
the  Countess  of  Pembroke's,  emphasized  unduly  Garnier's 
tendency  to  a  stilted  convention. 

]\lean\vhile  the  poet  Samuel  Daniel  presented  Cleopatra's 
fate  afresh,  on  Garnier's  lines  but  in  F.n<,dish  language  of  his 
own.  Daniel  brought  to  the  classical  revival  for  richer  poetic 
gifts  than  Kyd  or  his  noble  patroness.  He  abandoned  the 
method  of  literal  translation  from  the  French,  and  brought 
some  original  power  to  reinforce  the  countess's  aspiration 
to  free  Elizabethan  drama  of  the  Gothic  taint.  Daniel's 
CJcopafrtty  his  first  contribution  to  the  new  classical  school 
(^{  (haiiia,  was  avowedly  a  continuation  of  Lady  Pembroke's 
A  iitonie ;  it  carries  the  story  from  Antony's  death  to  Cleo- 
patra's suicide.  In  a  dedication  to  the  countess  Daniel  explains 
that  his  Muse  would  never  have  '  digressed  '  into  such  a  path — 

'  had  not  thy  well  graced  Antonie, 
(Who  all  alone  having  remained  long) 
Wanted  his  Cleopatra's  company.^ 

Daniel  was  encouraged  by  his  poet-friend,  Edmund  Spenser,  \ 
whose  sympathies  were  classical,  to  attune  his  lyre  to  tragic  / 
plaints.  Daniel  scarcely  fulfilled  Spenser's  anticipations  of 
success  in  the  tragic  sphere.  He  keeps  close  to  French 
models.  His  Cleopatra  at  times  is  a  mere  paraphrase  of 
Garnier's  Marc-Antoine.  Such  a  chorus  as  that  in  which 
both  English  and  French  dramatists  apostrophize  the  Nile 
illustrates  the  general  relationship  of  their  sentiment  and 
metrical  scheme. '     At  no  long  interval  Daniel  took  a  second 

^    Works,  ed.  Grosart,  vol.  iii,  p.  23. 

^  Cf.  Garnier's  Marc-Antoine  t^     •  y,    r^,     l    .      /i     ^    1  -1 

(Act  II   ad  fin).  Daniel's  c/^(?^i/^ra  (last  chorus). 

O  vagueux  prince  de  fleuues,  And  canst,  O  Nilus,  thou 

Des  Ethiopes  I'honneur,  Father  of  Floods  endure, 

11  faut  qu'ores  tu  espreuues  That  yellow  Tiber  should 

Le  seruage  d'un  Seigneur  :  With  sandy  streams  rule  thee  ? 

Oue  du  Tybre  qui  est  moindre  Wilt  thou  be  pleas'd  to  bow 

En  puissance  &  en  renom  To  him  those  feet  so  pure, 

Voises  (i.  e.  ailles)  reuerant  le  nom,      Whose  unknown  head  we  hold 
Qui  fait  tous  les  fleuues  ciaindre,         A  power  divine  to  be  ? 
Superbe  de  la  grandeur  Thou  that  didst  ever  see 

Des  siens  qui  veulent  enceindre  Thy  free  banks  uncontrolled 

De  ce  monde  la  rondeur.  Live  under  thine  own  care. 

Ah,  wilt  thou  bear  it  now  ? 
And  now  wilt  yield  thy  streams 
A  prey  to  other  realms. 


446  FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

step  along-  the  classical  road.  His  second  tragedy  dealt 
with  the  tale  of  Philotas,  the  friend  of  Alexander  the  Great, 
who  was  convicted  of  treachery.  Here  Daniel,  again  pursuing 
Garnier's  path,  dramatized  an  episode  in  Plutarch's  Life  of 
Alexander.  He  exaggerated  every  classical  convention. 
The  speeches  run  to  inordinate  length.  A  messenger  narrates 
the  catastrophe  in  tedious  detail,  and  a  long  chorus  on  varied 
rhyming  schemes  brings  each  act  to  a  close  with  gnomic 
platitudes. 

The  classical  movement  was  continued  by  Sir  Philip 
Sidney's  friend,  Eulke  Greville.  Greyille,  followed  the 
Countess  of  Pembroke  and  Samuel  Daniel  in  a  design  of 
dramatizing  on  ancient  lines — for  a  third  time  in  English — 
'  the  irregular  passions  of  Antonie  and  Cleopatra ',  who 
*  forsook  empire  to  follow  sensuality  '.  The  story  of  Antony 
and  Cleopatra,  which  had  fascinated  Jodelle  and  Garnier,  the 
founders  of  the  tragedy  of  the  French  Renaissance,  clearly 
exercised  as  magnetic  an  attraction  on  the  advocates  of  a 
classical  reform  of  Ehzabethan  tragedy.  Greville's  drama  on 
the  subject  is  not^xtant.  It  was  '  sacrificed  to  the  fire '  by 
his  own  hands.^  Not  that  he  doubted  its  literary  merits,  but 
that  he  feared  that  his  treatment  of  the  Queen  of  Egypt  and 
her  paramour  might  be  suspected  of  aiming  at  '  vices  in  the 
present  governors  and  government  '.^  Greville  fancied  some 
vague  sort  of  resemblance  between  the  relations  of  Queen 
P21izabeth  and  the  Earl  of  Essex,  and  those  of  Cleopatra  and 
Antony. 

Greville's  remaining  dramatic  work,  which  was  not  exposed 
to  a  suspicion  of  political  libel,  survives.  Although  it  touched 
contemporary    history   more   closely   than    classical,   and   its 

I  Greville's  Life  of  tJie  Renoivned  Sir  Philip  Sidfic'v,  1552,  p.  178. 

'''  There  was  much  to  prejudice  the  classical  dramatic  revival  in  the 
eyes  of  the  English  public.  Among  the  obstacles  to  progress  was  an 
unexpected  and  unfounded  suspicion  that  its  intentions  were  other  than 
those  of  literary  purification.  Daniel's  classical  tragedy  of  Philotas, 
which  was  written  quite  innocently  for  amateur  acting  by  gentlemen's 
sons  at  Bath,  was  suspected  of  ulterior  political  motives.  There,  as  in 
Greville's  lost  tragedy,  some  likeness  was  presumed  between  the  fate 
of  the  imperial  favourite  Philotas  and  that  of  ()ueen  Elizabeth's  Earl  of 
Esse-\. 


GREVILLI':'S  CLASSICAL  TRAGEDIES       447 

theme  passed  outside  the  strict  classical  confines,  it  was  strictly 
loyal  to  the  classical  form.     There  was  French  precedent  for 
an    extension  of  the  topic  of  regular   tragedy  beyond   the 
boundaries    of    classical    mythology   and    history.       Greville  ; 
sought  his  dramatic  material  in  recent  oriental  history,  and' 
was  thus  in  accord  with  French  example.     One  of  his  two| 
tragedies,  Mustapha,  dealt  with  the  death  of  a  Turkish  prince! 
of  the  name,  w^ho  was  slain  in  1553  by  his  father,  the  great 
Sultan  Soliman  the  Magnificent, at  the  instigation  of  theSukan's 
wife  Rossa.^     Mustapha's  story  had  already  engaged  the  hand 
of  a  French  dramatist.      La  Soltane,  a  tragedy  which  was 
published  at  Paris  in  1561,  presents  in  like  form  the  incidents 
of  Greville 's  piece,  but  the  sultan's  wafe,  as  the  title  indicates, 
fills  a  rather  larger  space  of  the  canvas  than  the  sultan.     The 
other  of  Greville's  classical  dramas,  A/akam,  heir  to  the  King 
of  Ormus^  is  a  more  crabbed  presentment  of  an  episode  of 
JMohammedan  history. 

Enthusiastic  praise  was  bestowed  by  contemporaries  on 
Fulke  Greville's  endeavours  to  enshrine  oriental  heroes  in 
classical  English  tragedy.     A  wish  was  expressed — 

To  raise  this  busken-poet  to  the  skies  ; 
And  fix  him  there  among  the  Fleyades, 
To  light  the  Muse  in  gloomy  tragedies.- 

In  point  of  gloomy  solemnity  at  any  rate  Sir  Fulke's  work 
entitled  it  to  share  the  fame  of  the  tragedy  of  the  French  Pleiade. 
The  classical  effort  of  the  Countess  of  Pembroke,  of  Kyd, 
of  Daniel,  and  of  Greville,  was  continued  at  the  beginning  of 
the  seventeenth  century  by  William  Alexander  (afterwards 
Earl  of  Stirling),  a  young  Scotsman,  who  at  the  end  of  the 

^  The  great  Sultan  Soliman,  who  reigned  from  1520  to  1566,  was  a 
familiar  figure  on  both  English  and  French  stages.  Shakespeare  bears 
witness  to  his  wide  repute  by  a  mention  of  him  in  The  Merchant  of 
Venice.     The  prince  of  Morocco  swears  (11.  i.  24-6)  : 

'  By  this  scimitar — 
That  slew  the  Sophy  and  a  Persian  prince 
That  won  three  fields  of  Sultan  Solyman! 
'-  John  Davies  of  Hereford  in  Scourge  of  Folly,  which  was  probably 
published  before  1611. 


448  FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

previous  century  left  Glasgow  University  to  travel  abroad. 
On  his  return  home  in  1603  he  entered  the  service  of  James 
of  Scotland,  then    newly   king  of  England,  and   published 
a  tragedy  of  Darfiis  on  the  strict  classical  model.     There 
followed    in    rapid    succession    three    similar    compositions: 
the   tragedy  of  Croesus,  kiiig  nf  Lydia,  the  A lexajidrean 
Tragedy,  which  dealt  with  the  struggle  among  Alexander's 
generals  for  Alexander's  crown  after  his  death,  and  finally  the 
tragedy  oi  Jnlhis  Caesar.     The  four  pieces  were  published 
together  in  1607  under  the  general  title  of  The  Monarchic ke 
Tragedies.     All  but  one  of  the  plays  had  French  precedents. 
No   French  writer  seems  previously  to  have  dealt  with  the 
story  of  Croesus.     The  fate  of  Julius  Caesar  was  repeatedly 
handled  by  French  dramatists,  and  the  vScottish  dramatist  failed 
to  modify  conspicuously  the  French  treatment  of  the  theme. 
The  stories  of  Darius  and  Alexander  were  also  thoroughly 
identified  with  the  French  theatre.     Not  only  did  Jacques  de 
la  Taille,  one  of  the  pioneers  of  classical  tragedy,  make  his 
reputation  by  dramas  on  the  same  two  heroes,  but  Alexandre 
Hardy,  who  tried  to  amend  the  old  classical  method  of  the 
French  stage,  dramatized  both  the   Plutarchan  topics   anew 
early   in   the   seventeenth    century.      In    their   treatment    of 
Alexander  the  Great,  Jacques  de  la  Taille  and  Hard)-  were 
content  to  bring  Alexander's  career  to  its  close.     In  the  plot 
of  his  Alexandrean  Tragedy,  the  Scottish  dramatist  pursued 
the  story  of  the  conqueror's  influence  beyond  his  death.     But 
the  Scotsman's  dramatic  scheme  shows  little  variation  on  the 
foreign   models.     His  speeches  are   of  interminable  length. 
The  choruses  are  in  a  sombre  monotone,    William  Alexander's 
pen  was  rarely  touched  by  the  Promethean  fire.    None  the  less, 
his  discipleship  to  classical  tutors  constituted  him,  in  the  in- 
dulgent view  of  British  scholars,  '  the  monarch  tragick  of  this 
isle,'  even  in  the  era  of  Shakespeare's  maturest  achievement. 

With  Sir  William  Alexander's  Moitarchicke  Tragedies  the 
effort  to  acclimatize  classical  drama  in  Elizabethan  England 
practically  ceased.  The  active  champions  of  the  irregular 
drama  had  then  won  their  final  victory.  The  critics 
acquiesced    in    the   inevitable    issue   with   regret.      Garnier's 


W-EBSTER'S  APOLOGY  449 

failure  to  gain  the  popular  ear  in  rLngland  was  held  to  do  no 
credit  to  public  taste.  It  was  deemed  inglorious  that  Kyd's 
tribute  to  '  tragicke  Gamier — his  poor  Cornelia  .  . '.  should 
stand  naked  upon  every  post ',  should  suffer  popularly  humi- 
liating neglect.  '  Howsoever  not  respected  in  England,'  Kyd's 
endeavour  was  in  critical  judgement  '  excellently  done  '.^ 

Such  a  view  was  widely   held.     Many  of  the  dramatists 
who   resisted   classical   authority  viewed   their  revolutionary 
courses    with    searchings    of  heart,    and    blamed    the   cruel 
necessity  which  compelled  them  to  serve  a  perverted  public 
opinion.      Ben  Jonson  constantly  deplored   the  breaches  of] 
classical  decorum,  of  which  his  colleagues  and  himself  w^ere  I 
guilty.     He  reckoned  among  '  the    ill  customs '  of  the  age '' 
dramatic    infringements   of  unity  of  time,  which   permitted) 
children  to  grow  into  old  men  in  the  course  of  a  single  playJ 
and  he  ridiculed  the  absurd  excesses  of  violent  action  within] 
sight  of  the  audience,  which  made  '  three  rusty  swords  ' 
Fight  over  York  and  Lancaster's  long  jars.-^ 

John  Webster,  a  master  of  the  Elizabethan  type  of  romantic-^ 
tragedy,  whose  powers  were  only  second  to  those  of  Shake- 
speare, was  even  franker  in  his  comment  on  the  same  text.^i 
When  publishing  in  161 2  his  White  Devil,  a  typical  Eliza- j 
bethan  tragedy  of  lawdess  romantic  passion,  A\^ebster  sadly » 
acknowledges  that   it  '  is  no  true  dramatic  poem '.     But  he  \ 
explained  that  he  had  broken  classical  laws  knowingly,  and 
attributed   his   default    to   the   ignorance   of  the   play-goer. 
'  Willingly  and  not  ignorantly  in  this  kind  have  I  faulted ;  for 
should  a  man  present  to  such  an  auditory  the  most  sententious 
tragedy  that  ever  was  written,  observing  all  the  critical  laws, 
as  height  of  style  and  gravity  of  persons,  inrich  it  with  the 
sententious  chorus,  and  as  it  were,  life  in  death  in  the  passionate 
and  weighty  nuntius ;  yet  after  all  this  divine  rapture,  '  O  dura 

^  William  Gierke's  Poliinanteia,  1595- 

^  With  significant  irony  Jonson  describes  the  innovation  of  diversity 
of  place.  '  How  comes  it,'  asks  a  character  in  Every  Man  out  of  his 
Humour  {\l<^<^),  '  How  comes  it  then,  that  in  some  one  play  we  see  su 
many  seas,  countries,  and  kingdoms  passed  over  with  such  admiralile 
dexterity  ? '  The  answer  is  :  '  O  that  but  shows  how  well  the  authors  can 
travel  in  their  vocation,  and  outrun  the  apprehension  of  their  auditory.' 

G  g 


450   FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

messorum  ilia,'  the  breath  that  comes  from  the  uncapable 
multitude  is  able  to  poison  it ;  and  ere  it  be  acted,  let  the 
author  resolve  to  fix  to  every  scene  this  of  Horace — 

Haec  hodie  porcis  comedenda  relinques.' 

Gamier,  throughout  the  Elizabethan  and  Jacobean  era, 
enjoyed  the  critics'  reverence,  and  was  even  credited  with  a 
truthfulness  and  vivacity  which  were  superior  to  that  discernible 
in  the  irregular  Elizabethan  drama.  At  the  very  close  of  the 
great  period  of  English  drama  the  poet  William  Browne,  in 
his  Bintannias  Pastorals^  ascribed  to  Garnier's  '  buskined 
muse'  capacity  to  'infuse  the  spirit  of  life'  into  the  'very 
stones  '.  The  verdict  is  of  more  archaeological  than  aesthetic 
interest,  but  it  is  a  significant  tribute. 

XII 

Conclusion 

William  Browne  wrote  when  Shakespeare's  professional 
career  was  just  ended,  when,  save  in  the  complacent  language 
of  courtesy.  Gamier  had  finally  lost  his  place  of  predominance 
in  the  world  of  dramatic  art.  It  does  not  fall  within  the  limits 
of  the  present  study  to  describe  those  pre-eminent  features  of 
Shakespearean  or  Elizabethan  drama  which  lay  beyond  the 
scope  of  French  influence.  There  is  nothing  in  the  labours  of 
the  French  dramatists  of  the  sixteenth  century  which  is  com- 
parable with  Shakespeare's  subtle  portrayal  of  character,  with 
his  universal  survey  of  life,  with  his  all-embracing  humour,  or 
with  his  magical  command  of  language.  There  is  little  or 
nothing  in  the  French  theatre  of  Shakespeare's  own  or  the  pre- 
ceding generations  to  account  for  these  dazzling  radiations  of 
English  dramatic  genius.  We  are  here  only  concerned  with 
the  humbler  constituent  elements  of  English  drama  which  owed 
support  and  suggestion  to  France,  more  especially  while  the 
Elizabethan  movement  was  in  the  stage  of  experiment  and  on 
the  road  to  its  apotheosis.  It  is  clear  that  within  these  limits 
active  help  and  passive  suggestion  were  real  and  substantial. 

It  is  in  the  themes  of  tragedy  and  comedy  that  the  closest 


TH]":  CHORIC  in.KMENT  IN  SHAKKSPEARE    451 

bonds  of  union  between  the  dramatic  work  of  the  two  countries 
are  visible.  Chronolog-y  leaves  small  doubt  that  this  resem- 
blance of  topic  is  a  debt  on  the  part  of  the  English  movement 
to  the  Erench. 

The  Elizabethan  theatre's  impatience  of  classical  restraint 
never  diminished  the  demand  for  plots  which  had  served  in 
Erance  the  purposes  of  classical  tragedy.  It  was  no  small 
benefit  to  I'Llizabethan  dramatists  first  to  learn  from  Erench 
tutors  how  adaptable  Plutarch's  Lives  were  to  the  con- 
temporary stage.  Each  of  ^Shakespeare  s  great  Roman  plays, 
Julius  Caesar,  A  ntouy  and  Cleopatra,  and  Coriolamts,  had 
its  precedent  in  a  Erench  tragedy  which  had  lately  been 
fashioned  out  of  Amyot's  standard  Erench  version  of  the 
Greek  biographies.  Julius  Caesar,  Antony,  and  Cleopatra 
repeatedly  figured  on  the  tragic  stage  of  Renaissance  Erance, 
and  were  among  the  best- applauded  dramatis  personae. 
Coriolanus  was  a  new-comer  and  a  less  familiar  visitor  to  the 
PVench  dramatic  arena,  but  he  was  there  before  vShakespeare 
introduced  him  to  his  own  clients. 

In  spite  of  the  popular  demand  for  dramatic  licence  in 
Erance  through  the  Renaissance  era,  the  classical  conventions 
of  drama  were  powerfully  supported  there,  and  well  held 
their  own.  The  breach  which  Elizabethan  drama  contrived 
with  the  old  tradition  was  for  the  most  part  bold  and  complete. 
Yet  the  English  dramatists  viewed  their  revolutionary  conduct 
wath  small  exultation,  and  remained  loyal  to  much  subsidiary 
machinery  of  the  old  regime.  The  choric  element,  which 
survives  in  Shakespearean  drama  in  a  modified  form,  seems 
to  reflect  influences  issuing  from  the  classical  reaction  of  his 
day  in  his  own  country, — a  reaction  which  flowed  directly 
from  Garnier's  predominance  in  the  Erench  theatre.  Daniel, 
the  most  powerful  and  active  of  the  reactionaries,  laid  stress 
on  the  importance  of  the  Chorus  to  the  due  exposition  of 
tragic  motive : 

We,  as  the  Chorus  of  the  vulgar,  stand  \ 

Spectators  here,  to  see  these  great  men  play  j 
Their  parts  both  of  obedience  and  command,  ; 
And  censure  all  they  do,  and  all  they  say. 

Gg2 


452    FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

Such  comment  helps  to  explain  the  manifest  reluctance  with 
which  the  great  Elizabethan  dramatists  of  the  irregular 
school  parted  with  the  chorus.  The  tragic  chorus,  which 
was  so  conspicuous  a  feature  of  classical  tragedy,  was  indeed 
never  rejected  with  the  same  completeness  as  the  classical  rule 
of  unity  and  statuesque  declamation.  Traces  of  the  Chorus  are 
widely  distributed  over  the  Elizabethan  drama,  and  are  promi- 
nent survivals  of  the  classical  form  in  both  Marlowe  and  Shake- 
speare. Not  only  did  Shakespeare  occasionally  introduce 
choric  prologues  on  which,  as  in  Henry  V,  he  lavished  freely 
his  lyric  gift,  but  in  some  of  his  tragedies  he  allots  choric 
functions  to  subsidiary  characters.  The  choric  note  of  inde- 
pendent exegesis  is  plainly  sounded  in  some  speeches  of  Friar 
Laurence  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  and  when  Shakespeare's 
tragic  power  was  at  its  zenith — in  his  two  Roman  plays  of 
Antony  and  Cleopatra  and  Coriolamts — he  fully  invests  with 
the  choric  oflfice  the  character  of  Enobarbus  in  the  one  case  and 
that  of  Menenius  Agrippa  in  the  other.  In  his  own  original  way 
Shakespeare  pays  weighty  tribute  to  the  worth  of  the  ancient 
choric  formula,  and  implicitly  adopts  Daniel's  estimate  of  its 
purpose.  Nor,  again,  did  vShakespeare,  in  spite  of  his  accep- 
tance of  the  new  dramatic  principle  of  scenic  presentation 
of  violent  crime,  exclude  altogether  the  classic  method  of  the 
'  nuntius  '  or  '  reporter  '  of  acts  of  death  and  outrage.  The 
descriptive  reports  of  the  murder  of  the  princes  in  the  Tower 
in  Richard  ///and  of  Ophelia's  death  by  drowning  in  Hamlet 
recall  the  speeches  of  messengers  in  classical  tragedy. 

It  was  not  only  the  classical  themes  which  had  already 
inspired  tragedy  in  the  French  theatres  that  figured  anew  in 
Shakespearean  drama.  The  adapters  of  French  history  to 
the  uses  of  the  French  stage  had  before  Shakespeare's  day 
dealt  with  the  pathetic  episode  of  Joan  of  Arc's  exploit  in  the 
war  with  England.  The  Maid  of  Orleans  was  more  than 
once  an  honoured  heroine  of  French  tragedy,  and  her  associa- 
tion with  the  French  theatre  is  not  likely  to  have  escaped 
the  attention  of  Shakespeare's  coadjutor,  who  treated  her 
with  scant  courtesy  in  /  Henry  VI.  The  foundations  of 
Shakespeare's  earliest  comedy,  his  satiric  Love's  Labour  's 


CONCLUSION  453 

Lost,  were  openly  laid  on  French  soil.  Nor  in  those  paths 
of  dramatic  romance  which  Shakespeare's  genius  illumined 
with  its  own  incomparable  light  can  he  be  often  reckoned  a 
l)ioneer.  Not  only  had  the  fortunes  of  Romeo  and  Juliet  been 
during  Shakespeare's  youth  adapted  from  the  Italian  story  to 
purposes  of  romantic  tragedy  in  France,  but  the  Italian  fables 
of  his  two  romantic  comedies,  The  Tiuo  Genileinen  of  Verona 
and  Tivel/th  Night,  had  suffered  the  like  fate  across  the 
l^nglish  channel.  The  French  dramatic  endeavour,  as  we 
have  seen,  was  very  often  an  Italian  inspiration,  and  Italy  must 
share  with  France  the  glory  of  guiding  Shakespeare's  steps. 
Like  both  romantic  and  comic  intrigue,  comic  pedantry  was 
a  foreign  importation  on  the  Elizabethan  stage,  which  came 
from  Italy,  chiefly  through  France.  When  all  the  circum- 
stances of  Elizabethan  England's  relations  wath  the  culture 
of  the  continent  of  F^urope  are  carefully  weighed,  when  the 
French  tendency  to  assimilate  Italian  example  and  the  Eng- 
lish tendency  to  assimilate  French  example  are  each  fairly 
estimated,  the  pretensions  of  France  to  instruct  Elizabethan 
dramatists  in  the  dramatic  efforts  of  Italy  as  well  as  in  those 
of  her  own  people  cannot  be  lightly  dismissed. 

In  the  study  of  the  causes  and  the  origins  of  English 
literature  in  the  sixteenth  century  it  must  always  be  borne  in 
mind  that  France  stimulated  F^ngland's  intellectual  energy 
in  two  ways— by  imparting  her  own  knowledge,  ideas,  and 
example,  and  by  imparting  the  knowledge,  ideas,  and  example 
which  she  herself  derived  from  Greece  and  ancient  and  modern 
Italy.  England  benefited  not  merely  by  the  original  inven- 
tions of  literary  France,  but  by  the  French  power  of  absorb- 
ing the  spirit  and  forms  of  Greek,  Latin,  and  Italian  Hterature. 
Much  came  to  Elizabethan  England  from  Italy  direct.  Italy 
may  well  claim  to  have  introduced  the  first  English  humanists, 
Linacre  and  Colet,  to  an  intelligent  study  of  the  classics. 
Elizabethan  men  and  women  of  culture  were  well  read  in 
Italian  poetry  and  prose.  Yet  it  was  the  F>ench  habit  of 
translation,  of  which  England  took  every  advantage,  that 
must  be  credited  with  making  the  subject-matter  of  Greek 
and    Latin    literature  current   coin  of   English    thought    and 


454  FRANCE  AND  THE  ELIZABETHAN  DRAMA 

expression,  while  only  slightly  smaller  was  the  service  which 
Frenchmen  rendered  the  general  Elizabethan  public  by  their 
interpretation  of  Italian  literature. 

In  poetry  the  Erench  influence  is  imposing.  The  Pleiade 
may  almost  be  said  to  have  taught  the  Elizabethan  lyrists 
their  trade.  Much  of  the  imagery  and  metre  which  is  often 
regarded  as  most  characteristically  Elizabethan  reflects  the 
Anacreontic  vein  of  Ronsard's  school.  Not  merely  did  French 
metres  attract  the  English  poets,  but  welcome  was  extended  to 
French  phraseology  of  classical  flavour,  like  compound  epithets, 
and  to  the  accepted  French  terminology  of  the  poetic  art. 
Nor  was  secular  verse  alone  affected.  Huguenot  example  was 
a  moving  cause  of  the  sacred  poetry,  including  the  sacred 
epic,  of  both  the  Elizabethan  and  Jacobean  epoch. 

If  Germany  was  first  to  instruct  Tudor  England  in  Pro- 
testant theology,  France  gave  her  the  doctrine  of  Calvin, 
and  presented  it  in  language  of  so  logical  a  precision  that 
serious  English  prose  caught  thence  a  new  coherence.  In 
recreative  prose  the  chief  French  gift  to  Elizabethan  England 
was  the  essay.  In  drama  the  Elizabethan  spirit  winged  a 
flight  beyond  the  range  of  France,  but  even  there  French 
suggestion  first  disclosed  the  dramatic  potentialities  of  Plu- 
tarch's Lives  and  the  primary  conception  of  tragi-comedy  or 
dramatic  romance.  The  English  genius  had  no  lack  of 
robustness  or  originality  ;  above  all,  it  never  lacked  passion ; 
but  it  worked  early  in  the  sixteenth  century  sluggishly  and 
fitfully.  It  acquired  the  agility  and  facility,  which  spurred  it 
forward  to  its  Elizabethan  triumphs,  largely  from  its  intellectual 
and  social  commerce  with  its  more  precocious  and  vivacious 
neighbour  overseas.  Thereby  the  Englishman's  assimilative 
instinct  was  quickened  to  beneficent  and  enduring  purpose. 
None  who  compare  the  two  literatures  are  likely  to  question 
the  justice  of  the  conclusion  that  a  knowledge  of  the  literary 
activity  of  contemporary  P"rance  is  essential  to  a  sound 
conception  or  estimate  of  the  literary  forces  at  work  in 
England  throughout  the  period  of  the  Tudor  sovereigns' 
rule,  from  the  accession  of  King  Henry  VII  to  the  death  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  and  even  through  the  generation  beyond. 


APPENDIX  I 


ADDITIONAL    SPECIMENS    OF    ELIZABETHAN     POETRY, 
WHICH    ARE    BORROWED   WITHOUT  ACKNOWLEDGE- 
MENT FROM  CONTEMPORARY  FRENCH  SOURCES 

In  order  to  give  the  reader  further  opportunities  than  space 
allowed  in  Book  IV  of  studying  the  Elizabethan  method  of 
direct  and  unavowed  transference  from  French  poetry  of  the 
Pleiade  School,  I  print  here  in  full  in  parallel  columns  seven 
illustrative  French  and  English  poems.  Two  of  the  five 
French  poems  are  by  Ronsard,  three  by  Desportes,  one  by  Du 
Bellay,  and  one  by  Jean  Passerat.  The  Elizabethan  renderings 
of  Ronsard  and  Desportes,  of  each  of  which  I  have  cited 
a  single  stanza  in  the  text,  are  by  Thomas  Lodge ;  Daniel 
is  the  literal  adapter  of  Du  Bellay  and  Drummond  of  Haw- 
thornden  of  Passerat.  It  would  be  easy  greatly  to  expand 
this  section,  but  my  purpose  is  confined  to  a  general  cor- 
roboration by  concrete  evidence  of  my  allegation  that  much 
representative  Elizabethan  poetry  was  nothing  more  than  a 
more  or  less  literal  reproduction  of  current  French  poetry. 


I.  RONSARD,C</^j-,Bk.V.i7(i553); 

CEuvres,  vol.  ii,  p.  356. 
Puis  que  tost  je  doy  reposer 
Outre  I'infernale  riviere, 
He  !  que  me  sett  de  composer 
Autant  de  vers  qu'a  fait  Homere  ? 

Les  vers  ne  me  sauveront  pas 
Ou'ombre  poudreuse  je  ne  sente 
Le  faix  de  la  tombe  Ik  bas, 
S'elle  est  bien  legere  ou  pesante. 

Je  pose  le  cas  que  mes  vers 
De  mon  labeur  en  contr'eschange 
Dix  ou  vingt  ans,  par  I'univers, 
M'apportcnt  un  peu  de  louange. 

Que  faut-il  pour  le  consumer 
Et  pour  mon  livre  oter  de  terra 
Ou'un  feu  qui  le  vienne  allumer, 
Ou  qu'un  esclandre  de  la  guerre  ? 


Lodge,  William  Longbeard,  1593. 

(iSiged.,  p.  117.) 
Since  that  I  must  repose 
Beyond  th'  infernal  lake, 
What  vails  me  to  compose 
As    many   verses    as    Homer   did 
make  ? 

Choice  numbers  cannot  keep 
Me  from  my  pointed  grave, 
But  after  lasting  sleep 
The  doom  of  dreadful  judge  I  needs 
must  have. 

I  put  the  case,  my  verse, 
In  lieu  of  all  my  pain, 
Ten  years  my  praise  rehearse, 
Or    somewhat    longer   time    some 
glory  gain. 

What  wants  there  to  consume 
Or  take  my  lines  from  light, 
But  flame  or  fiery  fume. 
Or   threatening   noise   of    war,   or 
bloody  fight  ? 


456     SPECIMENS  OF  ELIZABETHAN  POETRY 


Suis-je  meilleur  qu'Anacreon, 
Que  Stcsichore  ou  Simonide, 
Ou  qu'Antimache  ou  que  Bion, 
Que  Philetc  ou  que  Bacchylide  ? 

Toutefois,    bien     qu'ils     fussent 
Grecs, 
Que  leur  servit  leur  beau  langage, 
I'uisque  les  ans  venus  apr^s 
Ont  mis  en  poudre  leur  ouvrage  ? 

Donquemoy,qui  suis  nd  Francois, 
Composeur  de  rimes  barbares, 
H6  !  doy-je  esperer  que  ma  voix 
Surmonte  les  siecles  avares  ? 

Non-non,  il  vaut  mieux,  Rubampre, 
Son  age  en  trafiques  despendre, 
Ou  devant  un  senat  pourpre 
Pour  de  I'argent  sa  langue  vendre, 

Que  de  suivre  I'ocieux  train 
De  ceste  pauvre  Calliope, 
Qui  tousjours  fait  mourir  de  faim 
Les  meilleurs  chantres  de  sa  trope. 

2.  RONSARD,  Oe/es,  Bk.  V.  20(1553); 
QLuvres,  vol.  ii,  p.  358. 


.Si  tost  que  tu  sens  arriver 
La  froide  saison  de  I'hyver, 
En  septembre,  chere  arondelle, 
Tu  t'envoles  bien  loin  de  nous  ; 
Puis    tu    reviens  quand   le    temps 

doux, 
Au  mois  d'Avril,  se  renouvelle  ; 

Mais  Amour,  oyseau  comme  toy, 
Ne  s'enfuit  jamais  de  chez-moy  : 
Tousjours  mon  hoste  je  le  trouve  ; 
II  se  niche  en  mon  cceur  tousjours, 
Et  fond  mille  petits  amours 
Ou'au  fond  de  ma  poitrine  il  couve. 


L'un  a  des  ailerons  au  flanc, 
L'autre  de  duvet  est  tout  blanc, 
Et  1  autre  ne  fait  que  d'eclore. 
L'un  de  la  coque  ii  demy  sort 
Et  l'autre  en  becquette  le  bord, 
l"t  l'autre  est  dedans  I'ceuf  encore. 


Excell  I,  Anacreon, 

Stesichons,  Simonides, 

Antimachus,  or  Bion, 

Philetes  or  the  grave  Bacchylides  ? 

All  these  though  Greeks  they  were, 
And  used  that  fluent  tongue, 
In  course  of  many  a  year 
Their  works  are  lost,  and  have  no 
biding  long. 

Then  I,  who  want  wit's  sap. 
And  write  but  bastard  rime, 
May  I  expect  the  hap. 
That  my  endeavours  may  o'ercome 
the  time  ? 

No,  no  ;  'tis  far  more  meet 
To  follow  merchant's  life. 
Or  at  the  judge's  feet 
To    sell  my  tongue   for   bribes   to 
maintain  strife, 

Than  haunt  the  idle  train 
Of  poor  Calliope, 
Which   eaves  for  hunger  slain. 
The  choicest  men  that  her  attend- 
ants be. 

Lodge,  Willicwi  Longbeard,  1593. 

'  Imitation  of  a  Sonnet  in  an 

ancient  French  poet'  (1819  ed., 

p.  114). 

As  soon  as  thou  dost  see  the  winter 

clad  in  cold, 
Within  September  on  the  eaves  in 

sundry  forms  to  fold, 
Sweet  swallow  far  thou  fliest,  till  to 

our  native  clime, 
In  pleasant    April   Phoebus's  rays 
return  the  sweeter  time. 

But   love   no  day  foresakes  the 
place  whereas  I  rest. 
But  every  hour  lives  in  mine  eyes, 

and  in  mine  heart  doth  nest. 
Each  minute  I  am  thrall  and  in  my 

wounded  heart 
He  builds  his  nest,  he  lays  his  eggs, 
and  thence  will  never  part. 

Already    one    hath    wings,    soft 

down  the  other  clads, 
This  breaks   the    skin,  this   newly 

fledged  about  my  bosom  gads. 
The  one  hath  broke  the  shell,  the 

other  soars  on  high, 
This  newly  laid,  that  quickly  dead, 

before  the  dam  come  nigh. 


BORROWED  FROM  FRENCH  SOURCES       457 


J'entens,  soit  de  jour,  soit  de  nuit, 
l)e  CCS  petits  Amours  le  bruit, 
Beans  pour  avoir  la  bechtie. 
Qui  sont  nourris  par  les  plus  grans, 
Kt,  grands  devenus,  tous  les  ans 
Me  couvent  une  autre  nichce. 


Quel  renicde  auroy-je,  Brinon, 
Encontre  tant  d'Amours,  sinon 
(Puisque  d'eux  je  me  desespere), 
i'our  soudain  guarir  ma  langueur, 
D'une  dague  m'ouvrant  le  cccur, 
Tuer  les  petits  et  leur  mere  ? 


Both    day   and   night    1    hear   the 

small  ones  how  they  cry, 
Calling  for  food,  who  by  the  great 

are  fed  for  fear  they  die. 
All    wax   and   grow   to   proof  and 

every  year  do  lay 
A  second  nest,  and  sit  and  hatch 

the  cause  of  my  decay. 

Ah,  Magdalen,  what  relief  have 
1  for  to  remove 

These  crooked  cares,  that  thus  pur- 
sue my  heart  in  harbouring  lo\e. 

But  helpless  of  relief  since  I  by 
care  am  stung, 

To  wound  my  heart  thereb)-  to  slay 
both  mother  and  her  young. 


3.  UESPORTES,Z>m«^,lxviii  (1573)  ; 
CEiivres,  ed.  Michiels,  p.  40. 

Ma  nef  passe  au  destroit  d'une  mer 

courroucee, 
Toute  comble  d'oubly,  Thiver  a  la 

minuict ; 
Un  aveugle,  un  enfant,  sans  souci 

la  conduit 
Desireux  de  la  voir  sous  les  eaux 

renversee. 

Elie   a    pour   chaque   ranie    une 

longue  pensee 
Coupant,au  lieu  de  I'eau,  I'esperance 

qui  fuit ; 
Les  vents  de  mes  soupirs,  efifroyables 

de  bruit, 
Ont  arrache  la  voile  a  leur  plaisir 

poussee. 

De    pleurs    une    grand'pluie,    et 

I'humide  nuage 
Des  dedains  orageux  detendent  le 

cordage, 
Retors  des   propres   mains  d'igno- 

rance  et  d'erreur. 
De  mes  astres  luisans  la  flamme  est 

retiree. 

L'art  est  vaincu  du  temps,  du  bruit 

et  de  I'horreur. 
Las  I  puis-je  done  rien  voir  que  ma 

perte  asseuree  ? 


Lodge,  Verses  from  Rosalynde, 

1590; 

Sonetto  by  Phoebe  (1819  ed.,  p.  103). 

My  boat  doth  pass  the  straits 
Of  seas  incensed  with  fire. 
Filled  with  forgetfuiness  ; 
Amid  the  winter's  night, 
A  blind  and  careless  boy, 
Brought  up  by  fond  desire. 
Doth  guide  me  in  the  sea 
Of  sorrow  and  despite. 

For  every  oar  he  sets 
A  rank  of  foolish  thoughts. 
And  cuts,  instead  of  wave, 
A  hope  without  distress  : 
The  winds  of  my  deep  sighs 
That  thunder  still  for  noughts 
Have  split  my  sails  with  fear 
With  care  and  heaviness. 

A  mighty  storm  of  tears, 
A  black  and  hideous  cloud, 
A  thousand  fierce  disdains 
Do  slack  the  halyards  oft : 
Till  ignorance  do  pull. 
And  error  hale  the  shrouds. 
No  star  for  safety  shines. 
No  Phoebe  from  aloft. 

Time  hath  subdued  art,  and  joy  is 

slave  to  woe : 
Alas  Love's  Guide,  be  kind,  what 

shall  I  perish  so  ? 


45<S      SPECIMENS  OF  ELIZABETHAN  POETRY 


4.  DESPORTES.Z'/V^W^II.viii  (1573); 
CEit7'res,  ed.  Michiels,  p.  71. 

Je  me  vcux  rendre  hermite  et  faire 

penitence 
De  Terreur  de  mcs  yeiix  plains  de 

tcmerite, 
Dressant  nion  hermitage  en  un  lieu 

deserte, 
Dont  nul  autre  qu'Amour  n'aura  la 

connaissance. 
D'ennuis   et  de  douleurs  je   feray 

ma  pitance, 
Mon   bruvage   de   pleurs ;    et,  par 

I'obscurite, 
Le  feu  qui  m'ard  le  coeur  servira 

de  clairte 

Et  me  consommera  pour  punir  mon 

ofFance. 
Un  long  habit  de  gris  le  corps  me 

couvrira, 
Mon  tardif  repentir  sur  mon  front 

se  lira 
Et  le  poignant  regret  qui  tenaille 

mon  ame. 
D'un  espoir  languissant  mon  baston 

je  feray, 
Et   tous  jours,  pour  prier,  devant 

mes  yeux  j'auray 
La  peinture  d'Amour  et  celle  de  ma 

Dame. 


Lodge,  Glaucus  and  Silla,  1 589, 
(1819  ed.,  p.  59.) 

I  will  become  a  hermit  now 

And  do  my  penance  straight, 
For  all  the  errors  of  mine  eyes 

With  foolish  rashness  filled. 
My  hermitage  shall  placed  be 

Where  melancholy's  weight, 
And  none  but  love  alone  shah  know 

The  bower  I  mean  to  build. 
My  daily  diet  shall  be  care, 

Made  calm  by  no  delight; 
My  doleful  drink,  my  dreary  eyes, 

Amidst  the  darksome  place 
The    fire  that   burns    my  heedless 
heart 

Shall  stand  instead  of  light, 
And  shall  consume  my  weary  life 

Mine  errors  to  deface. 
My  gown  shall  be  of  spreading  gray 

To  clad  my  limbs  withal, 
My  late  repent  upon  my  brow 

Shall  plainly  written  be. 
My  tedious  grief  and  great  remorse 

That  doth  my  soul  enthrall, 
Shall  serve  to  plead  my  weary  pains 

And  pensive  misery. 
Of  faintful  hope  shall  be  my  staff 

And  daily  when  I  pray 
My  mistress'  picture  placed  in  love 

Shall  witness  what  I  say. 


5.  Desportes,  ^rr^^r/Vi- (1573); 
CEuvres,  ed.  Michiels,  p.  431. 

O  bienheureux  qui  pent  passer  sa 

vie 
Entre  les  siens,  franc  de  haine  et 

d'envie, 
Parmy  les  champs,   les   forests   et 

les  bois. 
Loin  du  tumulte  et  du  bruit  popu- 

laire, 
Et  qui  ne  vend  sa  liberte  pour  plairc 
Aux   passions   des   princes   et  des 

rois. 


II    n'a    soucy    d'une    chose    in- 

certaine, 
II  ne  se  paist  d'une  esperance  vaine, 
NuUe  faveur  ne  le  va  decevant, 
De  cent    fureurs  il   n'a  I'ame  em- 

brasee. 


Lodge,  Glaitcus  and  Silla,  1 589. 
(iSiged.,  p.  42.) 

Most   happy   blest   the    man   that 

midst  his  country  bowers 
Without  suspect  of  hate,  or  dread 

of  envious  tongue. 
May  dwell   among   his   own :    not 

dreading  fortune's  lowers, 
Far  from  those  public  plagues  that 

mighty  men  hath  stung : 
Whose  liberty  and  peace  is  never 

sold  for  gaine. 
Whose  words  do  never  soothe  a 

wanton  prince's  vein. 

Incertain  hopes  and  vows  do  never 

harm  his  thought, 
And  vain  desires  do  shun  the  place 

of  his  repose; 
He  weeps  no  years  misspent,  nor 

want  of  that  he  sought, 


H0RR0\\']:D  iniOM  FRENCH  SOURCES       459 


Et  ne  maudit  sa  jeunesse  abusee, 
Quand  il  ne  trouve  a  la  tin  que  du 
vent. 


Nor  reaps  his  gain  by  words,  nor 
builds  upon  suppose: 


II    ne    fremist,    quand    la    mer 

courroucee 
Knfle  ses  tlots,  contrairemcnt  pous- 

see 
Des   vens    esmeus,    soufiflans    hor- 

riblement  ; 
Et  quand  la   nuict    a   son   aise    il 

sommeille, 
Une     trompette     en     sursaut     ne 

I'eveille, 
Pour  renvoyer  du  lict  au  monument. 


The   storms  of  troubled  sea  do 
never  force  his  fears, 


Nor  trumpet's  sound  doth  change 
his  sleeps  or  charm  his  ears. 


L'ambition  son  courage  n'attise  ; 

D'un  fard  trompeur  son  ame  il  ne 

deguise, 
II  ne  se  plaist  a  violer  sa  foy  ; 

Des  grands  seigneurs  Toreille  il 
n'importune, 

Mais  en  vivant  content  de  sa  for- 
tune 

II  est  sa  cour,  sa  faveur  et  son  roy. 


Ambitions  never  build  within  his 
constant  mind, 

A  cunning  coy  deceit  his  soul  doth 
not  disguise, 

His  firm  and  constant  faith  cor- 
ruptions never  blind, 

He    never    waits    his    weal    from 
prince's  wandering  eyes  ; 
But    living    well,    content    with 

every  kind  of  thing, 
He  is  his  proper  court,  his  favour, 
and  his  king. 

His  will  (restrained  by  wit)  is  never 
forced  away. 

Vain  hopes  and  fatal  fears,  the 
courtiers  common  foes, 

Afraid  by  his  foresight,  do  shun  his 
piercing  eye, 

And  nought  but  true  delight  ac- 
quaints him  where  he  goes, 

No  high  attempts  to  win,  but 
humble  thoughts  and  deeds, 

The  very  fruits  and  flowers  that 
spring  from  virtue's  seeds. 


Je    vous    rens    grace,    6    deitez 

sacrees 
Des  monts,  des  eaux,  des  forests  et 

des  prees. 
Qui  me  privez  de  pensers  soucieux, 
Et  qui  rendez  ma  volonte  contente, 
Chassant  bien    loin    ma   miserable 

attente, 
Et  les  desirs  des  caurs  ambitieux. 


O  deities  divine,  your  godheads  I 
adore 

That  haunt  the  hills,  the  fields,  the 
forests  and  the  springs, 

That  make  my  quiet  thoughts  con- 
tented with  my  store. 

And  fix  my  hopes  on  heaven,  and 
not  on  earthly  things  ; 
That  drive  me  from  desires,  in 

view  of  courtly  strife, 
And  draw  me  to  commend  the 
fields  and  country  life. 


46o      SPECIMENS  OF  ELIZABETHAN  POETRY 


Dedans  mes  champs  nia  pensee 

est  enclose ; 
Si  mon  corps  dort,  mon  esprit  se 

repose, 
Un  soin  cruel  ne  le  va  devorant. 
All   plus   matin    la    fraischeur   me 

soulage ; 
S'il  fait  trop  chaud  je  me  mets  ;i 

I'ombrage, 
Et,  s'il  fait  froid,  je  m'cchauffe  en 

courant. 


Si   je   ne    loge   en   ces    maisons 

dorees 
Au  front  superbe,  aux  voutes  pein- 

turees 
D'azur,  d'esmail  et  de  mille  cou- 

leurs, 
Mon  ceil  se  paist  des  thresors  de 

la  plaine, 
Riche  d'ceillets,  de  lis,  de  marjo- 

laine, 
Et  du  beau  teint  des  printanieres 

fleurs. 

Dans    les    palais   enflez    de    vaine 

pompe, 
L'ambition,    la    faveur    qui    nous 

trompe, 
Et  les  soucys  logent  communement ; 
Dedans  nos  champs  se  retirent  les 

fees, 
Roines  des  bois  k  tresses  decoiftees, 
Les  jeux,  I'amour  et  le  contente- 

ment. 


Ainsi   vivant,   rien  n'est   qui    ne 

m'agree  : 
J'oy  des  oiseaux  la  musique  sacree, 
()uand  du  matin  ils  benissent  les 

cieux, 
Et  le  doux  son  des  bruyantes  fon- 

taines, 
Qui    vont    coulant   de    ces    roches 

hautaines, 
Pour  arrouser  nos  prez  delicieux. 


Que  de  plaisir  de  voir  deux  co- 
lombelles, 
Bee  contre  bee.  en  tremoussant  des 
ailcs, 


My    thoughts    are    now    enclosed 

within  my  proper  land, 
And    if  my  body   sleep   my  mind 

doth  take  his  rest, 
My  simple  zeal  and  love  my  dangers 

do  withstand, 
The  morning's  pleasant  air  invites 

me  from  my  nest. 
If  weather  wax  too  warm  I  seek 

the  silent  shade, 
If  frosts  afitlict,  I  strive  for  warmth 

by  hunter's  trade. 

Although  my  biding  home  be  not 
imbossed  with  gold, 

And  that  with  cunning  skill  my 
chambers  are  not  dressed. 

Whereas  the  curious  eye  my  sundry 
sights  behold 

Yet  feeds  my  quiet  looks  on  thou- 
sand flowers  at  least. 

The  treasures  of  the  plain,  the 
beauties  of  the  spring 

Made  rich  with  roses  sweet  and 
every  pleasant  thing. 

Amidst  the  palace  brave  puffed  up 

with  wanton  shows 
Ambitions   dwell,   and   there   false 

favours  find  disguise, 
There  lodge  consuming  cares  that 

hatch  our  common  woes  : 
Amidst     our     painted     fields     the 

pleasant  Fairy  lies, 
And  all  those  powers  divine,  that 

with  untrussed  tresses, 
Contentment,   happy    love,   and 

perfect  sport  professes. 

So  living,  naught  remains  my  solace 

to  betray ; 
I   hear  the   pleasant   birds    record 

their  sacred  strains. 
When  at  the   morning's  rise  they 

bless  the  springing  day  : 
The    murmuring    fountains     noise 

from  out  the  marble  veins, 
Are  pleasing  to  mine  ears  ;  whilst 

with  a  gentle  fall 
They  fleet  from  high,  and  serve 

to  wet  the  meads  withal. 

What  sport  may  equal  this,  to  see 
two  pretty  doves 

When  neb  to  neb  they  join,  in  flut- 
tering of  their  wings, 


ii 


BORROWED  FROM  FRENCH  SOURCES   461 


Mille  baisers  sc  donner  tour  a  tour, 
Puis,  tout  ravy  de  leur  grace  naive, 
Dormir  au  frais  d'une  source  d'eau 

vive, 
Dent  le  doux  bruit  senible  parlcr 

d'amour. 


Que    de  plaisir  de  voir   sous  la 

nuit  brune, 
(}uand   Ic  soleil  a  fait   place  a   la 

lune, 
Au    fond    dcs    bois    les    nymphes 

s'assembler, 
Monstrer   au   vent   leur  gorge  de- 

couverte, 
Danser,    sauter,    se    donner    cotte 

verte, 
Et  sous   leurs   pas   tout   I'herbage 

trembler. 

Le  bal  finy,  je  dresse  en  haut  la 
veue, 
I'our  voir  le  teint  de  la  lune  cornuc, 

Claire,    argentee,   et    mc    mets    a 

penser 
Au    sort    heureux    du   pasteur    de 

Latmie. 
Lors  je    souhaite   une   aussi    belle 

amie, 
Mais  je  voudrois  en  veillant  I'em- 

brasser. 

Ainsi   la   nuict  je  contente  mon 

ame. 
Puis,  quand    Phebus   de   ses   rays 

nous  enflame, 
J 'essay    encor     mille    autres    jeux 

nouveaux  ; 
Diversement  mes    plaisirs   j'entre- 

lasse, 
Ores  je  pesche,  or  je  vay  a  la  chasse, 
Et   or'  je   dresse   embuscade   aux 

oyseaux. 


Je  fay  I'amour,  mais  c'est  de  telle 

sorte 
Que  seulement  du  plaisir  j'en  rap- 

porte, 
N'engageant  point  ma  chere  liberie ; 


And  in  the  roundelays  with  kisses 

seal  their  loves  ? 
Then  wondering  at  the  gifts  which 
happy  nature  brings  ; 
What    sport    is   it    to  sleep   and 

slumber  by  a  well. 
Whose  fleeting  falls  make  show, 
some  lovely  tale  to  tell  ? 

Oh  what  content  to  see  amidst  the 
darksome  night, 

When  as  the  setting  sun  hath  left 
the  moon  in  place, 

The  nymphs  amidst  the  vales  and 
groves  to  take  delight 

To    dance,  to    leap,    to    skip,  with 
sweet  and  pleasant  grace. 
To  give  green  gowns    in   sport, 

and  in  their  tripping  make 
By  force  of  footing  all  the  spring- 
ing grass  to  quake. 

Their  dances  brought  to  end,  I  lift 

my  looks  on  high 
To    see    the    horned    moon,    and 

descant  on  her  hue, 
Clear  silver  shining  bright,  and  eft- 

soons  then  think  I 
Upon  that  happy  chance  the  Lat- 

mian  shepherd  knew  : 
Then  do  I  wish  myself  as  far  a 

friend  as  she, 
But  watching  I  desire  she  might 

disport  with  me. 

Thus  midst  the  silent  night  myself 

I  do  content; 
Then  when  as  Phoebus'  beams  our 

hemisphere  enfiames  ; 
A  thousand  change   of  sports   for 

pleasure  I  invent. 
And  feast  my  quiet  thoughts  with 

sundry  pleasant  games, 
Now  angle  I  awhile,  then  seek  I 

for  the  chase. 
And  straight  my  limerods  catch 

the  sparrows  on  the  place. 

I  like  and  make  some  love  ;  but  yet 

in  such  a  sort 
That  naught  but  true  delight  my 

certain  suit  pursues ; 
My  liberty  remains,  and  yet  I  reap 

the  sport, 


462      SPECIMENS  0¥  ]^:LIZABETHAN  POETRY 


Kt  quelques  laqs  que  ce  dieu  puisse 

fa  ire 
Pour    m'attraper,   quand    je    m'en 

vcux  distraire, 
J 'ay  le  pouvoir  comme  la  volonte. 


Douces  brebis,  mes  fidelles  com- 

pagnes, 
Hayes,   buissons,   forests,   prez    et 

montagnes, 
Soyez   tcmoins   de   mon   contente- 

ment  ! 
Et  vous,  6  dieux  !  faites,  je   vous 

supplie, 
(2ue  cependant  que  durera  ma  vie, 
Je  ne  connoisse  uii  autre  change- 

ment. 


Nor  can  the  snares  of  love  my 
heedful  thoughts  abuse : 

But  when  I  would  forego,  I  have 
the  power  to  fty, 

And  stand  aloof  and  laugh,  while 
others  starve  and  die. 

My  sweet  and  tender  flocks,  my 
faithful  field  compeers, 

You  forests,  holts,  and  groves  you 
meads  and  mountains  high, 

Be  you  the  witnesses  of  my  con- 
tented years ; 

And  you,  o  sacred  powers,  vouch- 
safe  my  humble  cry, 
And  during  all  my  days,  do  not 

those  joys  estrange  ; 
But   let   them   still   remain   and 
grant  no  other  change. 


6.  Du  Bellay,  0/h'e  (1549), 
xxxvi. 

L'vnic    oiseau    (miracle    emerueil- 

lable) 
Par  feu  se  tue,  ennuye  de  sa  vie  : 
Puis   quand    son    anie    est    par 

flammes  rauie, 
Des  cendres  naist  vn  autre  k  luy 

semblable. 


Et  moy  qui  suis  I'vnique  mis(?rable, 
Fache  de  vivre,  vne  flamme  ay 

suyuie, 
Dont  conuiendra  bien  tost  que  ie 

deuie. 
Si  par  pitie  ne  m'etes  secourable. 


O  grand'  doulceur  !    6  bonte  sou- 

ueraine ! 
Si  tu  ne  veulx  dure  et  inhumaine 

estre 
Soubz    ceste    face    ang^lique    et 

seraine, 

Puis  qu'ay  pour  toy  du  Phenix  le 
semblant, 
Fay  qu'en  tous  poinctz  ie  luy  soy 

resemblant, 
Tu    me    feras    de    moy   mesme 
renaistrc. 


Samuel  Daniel,  in  Sonnets  after 
Astrophel  (1591),  Sonnet  IV;  3C 

The  only  bird  alone  that  Nature 

frames. 
When  weary  of  the  tedious  life 

she  lives, 
By  fire  dies,  yet  finds  new  life  in 

flames ; 
Her   ashes    to    her   shape    new 

essence  gives. 

When   only   I,  the   only   wretched 

wight, 
Weary  of  life  that  breathes  but 

sorrow's  blasts, 
Pursue  the  flame  of  such  a  beauty 

bright, 
That  burns  my  heart ;    and  yet 

my  life  still  lasts. 

O   sovereign  light !    that  with    thy 
sacred  flame 
Consumes    my    life,   revive    me 

after  this  ! 
And  make  me  (with  the  happy 
bird)  the  same, 

That  dies  to  live,  by  favour  of  thy 
bliss  ! 
This  deed  of  thine  will  show  a 

goddess'  power  ; 
In  so  long  death   to  grant   one 
living  hour. 


Jl 


BORROWED  FROM  FRENCH  SOURCES   463 


7.  Jean  Passer  at,  Elegies,  I.  \i; 

Suy  la  tnort  iVioi  vioineaii. 

CEiivres,  1606,  ed.  Blanchemain, 

(1880,  i.  56). 

Demandez  vous,  Amis,   d'ou  vien- 

nent  tant  de  larmes 
Que  mc  voyez  rouler  sur  ces  fune- 

bres  carmes  ? 
Mon  passereau  est  mort,  qui  fut  si 

bien  appris : 
Helas  !  c'est  faict  de  luy,  una  Chate 

I'a  pris. 
le  ne  le  verray  plus  en  sautelant 

me  suiure ; 
Or'  le  iour  me  deplaist,  or'  ie  suis 

las  de  viure. 
Pius  done  ie  ne  I'orray  chanter  son 

pilleri ; 
Et   n'ay-ie   pas   raison    d'en    estre 

bien  marri  ? 
II  estoit  passe   maistre  a  croquer 

une  mousche  : 
II  n  estoit  point  gourmand,  cholere 

ny  farousche, 
Si  on  ne  I'attaquoit  pour  sa  queue 

outrager : 
Lors  il  pingoit  les  doigts,  ardent  a 

se  vanger. 
Adonc  vous  I'eussiez  veu  crouller 

la  rouge  creste 
Attachee  au  sommet  de  sa  petite 

teste, 
Tel  que  Ion  veit  Hector,  mur  de 

ses  citoyens. 
Dedans  les  Grecques  naufs  lancer 

les  feux  Troyens. 
Toutesfois  une  Chate,  espiant  ceste 

proye, 
D'un  sault,  a  gueule  be'e,  engloutit 

nostre  ioye. 
Le  pauuret,  pour  certain,  fut  pris 

en  trahison, 
Autrement  de  la  Chate  il  eust  eu  sa 

raison. 
Le  pasteur  Phrygian  ainsi  vainquit 

Achille, 
Et   le  vain   Geneuois   la   vaillante 

Camille. 
Ainsi   le  grand  cheual   que   Pallas 

charpenta 
Centre  le  vieil  Priam   de   soldats 
enfanta. 


Drummond  OF  Hawthornden, 

Phyllis  on  the  death  of  her  Sparrow. 

[Poems,  161 6,  ed.  W.  C.  Ward, 

ii.  158.) 

Ah  !  if  ye  ask,  my  friends,  why  this 

salt  shower 
INIy  blubber 'd  eyes  upon  this  paper 

pour. 
Gone  is  my  sparrow  ;   he  whom  I 

did  train. 
And  turn'd  so  toward,  by  a  cat  is 

slain. 
No  more  with  trembling  wings  shall 

he  attend 
His  watchful  mistress  ;    would  my 

life  could  end  ! 
No  more  shall   I  him    hear   chirp 

pretty  lays ; 
Have  I  not  cause  to  loath  my  tedious 

days  ? 
A  Daedalus  he  was  to  catch  a  fly. 
Nor  wrath  nor  rancour  men  in  him 

could  spy ; 
To  touch  or  wrong  his  tail  if  any 

dar'd, 
Ho     pinched     their     fingers,    and 

against  them  warr'd : 
Then  might  that  crest  be  seen  shake 

up  and  down, 
Which    fixed   was    unto    his   little 

crown  ; 
Like   Hector's,  Troy's  strong  bul- 
wark, when  in  ire 
He  rag'd  to  set  the  Grecian  fleet  on 

fire. 
But,  ah,  alas  !  a  cat  this  prey  espies, 
Then  with  a  leap  did  this  our  joys 

surprise. 
Undoubtedly  this   bird   was   kill'd 

by  treason, 
Or  otherways  had  of  that  fiend  had 

reason. 
Thus  was  Achilles  by  weak  Paris 

slain, 
And  stout   Camilla   fell  by  Aruns 

vain : 
So  that  false  horse,  which  Pallas 

rais'd  'gainst  Troy, 
King    Priam    and    that    city    did 
destroy. 


4^)4    SPECIMENS  OF  ELIZABETHAN  POETRY 


Toy  qui  en  as  le  coeur  enfle  dc 

vaine  gloire, 
Bien  peu  te  diirera  I'honneur  de  ta 

victoire. 
Si  quelque  sentiment  reste  apres  le 

trespas 
Aux  espris  des  oiseaux  qui  trebu- 

schent  la  bas, 
L'ame  de  mon  mignon   se  sentira 

vengee 
Sur  le  sang  ennemy  de   la    Chate 

enragee. 
le   ne   rencontreray   ny    Chate   ny 

Chaton 
Que    ie    n'enuoye    apres     miauler 

chez  Pluton. 

Vous  qui  volez  par  I'air  entendans 

les  nouuelles 
De   ceste  digne   mort,  tournez  icy 

vos  oelles  ; 
Venez,  pileux  oiseaux,  accompagner 

mes  pleurs. 
Portons  k  son  idole  une  moisson  de 

fleurs. 
Ou'il  regoiue  de  nous  une  agreable 

ofifrande 
De  vin  doux  at  de  laict,  d'encens  et 

de  viande : 
Puis  engrauons  ces  mots  sur  son 

vuide  tombeau  : 

'  Passant,  le  petit  corps  d'un  gentil 

Passereau 
Gist  au  ventre  goulu  d'vne  Chate 

inhumaine, 
Aux  champs  Elysiens  son   Ombre 

se  proumeine.' 


Thou    now,   whose    heart    is    big 

with  this  frail  glory, 
Shalt   not    live    long    to    tell    thy 

honour's  story. 
If    any    knowledge    resteth    after 

death 
In  ghosts  of  birds,  when  they  have 

left  to  breathe, 
My  darling's  ghost  shall  know  in 

lower  place 
The  vengeance  falling  on  the  cattish 

race. 
For  never  cat  nor  catling  I   shall 

find. 
But  mew  shall  they  in  Pluto's  palace 

blind. 

Ye  who  with  gaudy  wings  and 

bodies  light 
Do  dint  the  air,  turn  hitherwards 

your  flight. 
To  my  said  tears  comply  these  notes 

of  yours. 
Unto  his   idol  bring  an  harv'st  of 

flowers  ; 
Let  him  accept  from  us,  as  most 

divine, 
Sabaean  incense,  milk,  food,  sweet- 
est wine ; 
And  on  a  stone  let  us  these  words 

engrave : 

'  Pilgrim,  the  body  of  a  sparrow 

brave 
In  a  fierce  gluttonous  cat's  womb 

clos'd  remains. 
Whose    ghost     now    graceth     the 

Elysian  plains.' 


Catullus's  well-known  poem  on  the  death  of  Lesbia's 
Sparrow  {Carmen  III)  doubtless  gave  Passerat  a  faint  cue. 
Drummond  of  Hawthornden  depends  solely  on  Passerat's 
verses.^  The  French  poet,  who  died  on  September  14,  1602, 
at  the  age  of  sixty-eig-ht,  wrote  most  of  his  poetry  in  early 
life,  but  no  collective  edition  was  published  before  1597,  and 
no  complete  edition  till  1 606. 

'  See  Prof.  L.  E.  Kastner's  article  entitled  '  Drummond  of  Hawthornden 
and  the  French  Poets  of  the  Sixteenth  Century ',  in  TJic  Modern  Language 
Review,  January,  igio. 


APPENDIX    II 

GEORGE  CHAPMAN  AND  GILLES  DURANT' 

A  WRITER  of  the  capacity  of  George  Chapman  is  respon- 
sible for  an  example  of  the  common  Elizabethan  habit  of 
plagiarism  from  the  French,  which  seems  worth  quoting 
separately.  In  1595  Chapman  published  a  little  volume  of 
verse  bearing  this  title : 

Quids  Banquet  of  Sence.  A  Coronet  for  his  Mistresse  Philosophic, 
and  his  amorous  Zodiacke.  With  a  translation  of  a  Latine  coppie,  written 
by  a  Fryer,  Anno  Dom.  1400.  Qiiis  leget  haec  ?  Nemo,  Hercule  Nemo, 
vel  duo  vel  nemo  :  Persius.  [Printer's  device  of  a  gnomon  rising  from 
the  sea  waves,  and  casting  a  shadow  on  the  water,  with  motto  on  a  scroll 
in  the  sky  above,  '  Sibi  Conscia  Recti.']  At  London.  Printed  by  I.  R. 
for  Richard  Smith,  Anno  Dom.  1595. 

This  volume  seems  to  be  the  second  that  Chapman  pub- 
lished. His  first  publication,  also  in  verse,  came  out  one  year 
earlier  under  the  title  of  The  Shadow  of  Night.  Great  biblio- 
graphical interest  attaches  to  Ouids  Banquet  of  Sejice.  It  is 
a  very  rare  book.  Only  two  perfect  copies  -  seem  known  in 
England.  Of  these  one  is  at  the  Dyce  Library  at  South 
Kensington  and  the  other  was  formerly  in  the  Corser  collec- 
tion.'  An  imperfect  copy  is  in  the  Bodleian  Library  at  Oxford. 
I  have  made  use  of  the  perfect  copy  in  the  Dyce  Library. 
It  is  a  quarto  of  thirty-five  leaves  in  admirable  preservation. 
The  signatures  run  from  A  to  L. 

The  volume  opens  with  a  dedication  '  To  the  Trvlie  Learned 
and  my  worthy  Friende,  Ma.  Mathezu  Royden  \  Royden  or 
Roydon  was  a  little-known  writer  of  verse,  who  reckoned 
among  his  intimate  friends  Sidney,  Marlowe,  Spenser,  and 
Lodge,  as  well  as  Chapman  ;  all  held  him  in  high  esteem  and 
appreciated  his  critical  powers.  In  conformity  with  the  spirit 
of  the  quotation  from  Persius  which  figures  on  the  title-page 

'  The  substance  of  this  section  has  already  appeared  in  a  paper  entitled 
Chapman's  Amorous  Zodiacke,  which  I  contributed  to  Modern  Philology, 
Chicago,  October,  1905. 

-  The  British  Museum  Library  contains  only  a  copy  of  a  reprint  of 
1639. 

3  Cf.  Corser's  Collectanea,  Part  IV,  pp.  283-9. 

LEE  H    h 


466  GEORGE  CHAPMAN  AND 

oiOni'ds  BaiKjuct  oy  Se7ice,Chapm2Ln  complains  in  his  address 
to  Roydon  of  '  die  wilfull  pouertie '  of  public  taste,  which 
insists  on  excessive  simplicity  of  style  in  poetry.  Chapman 
argues  that  poetic  art  requires  subtlety,  and  no  mere  '  plain- 
ness ',  in  the  presentation  of  ideas.  He  denies  the  right  of 
'  the  prophane  multitude  '  to  judge  of  '  high  and  hearty  in- 
vention expressed  in  most  significant  and  unaffected  phrase  '. 
The  poems  that  follow  are  offered  as  a  specimen  of  his  '  high 
and  hearty  invention  '. 

Five  sonnets  follow  the  author's  prefatory  dedication.  Ot 
these  the  first  is  ascribed  to  Richard  Stapleton,  the  second  to 
Tho.  Williams  of  the  Inner  Temple,  and  the  fourth  to  I.  U. 
of  the  Middle  Temple  (i.e.  Sir  John  Davies),  while  the  other 
two  are  anonymous.  The  general  burden  of  the  commen- 
datory verse  is  that  Chapman  is  an  Enghsh  poet  of  Ovid's 
rank. 

A  close  examination  of  the  volume  puts  a  new  complexion 
on  the  author's  pretensions  to  originality,  which  his  friends 
accepted.  An  appreciable  part  of  the  volume  illustrates  the 
Renaissance  theory  of  'imitation',  and  forms  a  graphic  com- 
ment on  its  practical  workings.  It  has  not  been  suspected 
before  that  a  third  of  the  contents  is  a  second  translation  from 
the  French.  In  view  of  this  revelation  there  seems  almost 
a  touch  of  irony  in  the  printer's  second  motto  at  the  extreme 
end  of  the  volume  :  '  Tempore  patet  occulta  Veritas.'  ^ 

Four  separate  poems  are  included  in  the  rare  little  book. 
The  first,  which  bears  the  title  of  '  Ouids  Banquet  of  Sence ', 
is  a  somewhat  licentious  description  of  the  poet  Ovid's  emo- 
tions on  witnessing  the  emperor  Augustus's  daughter  Julia 
(otherwise  called  Corinna)  in  the  bath,  and  of  his  endeavours 
to  gratify  each  sense  in  turn  as  he  surveys  the  seductive  scene. 
The  second  poem  is  a  sequence  of  ten  sonnets  entitled  '  A 
Coronet  for  his  Mistresse  Philosophic ',  in  w'hich  the  poet 
condemns  the  habitual  celebration  by  contemporary  sonnet- 
eers of '  love's  sensual  empery  '. 

The    third    poem,    '  The    Amorous    Zodiacke,'    is    more 

^  The  device  at  the  end  of  the  volume  shows  the  figure  of  Time,  with 
his  scythe  and  hour-glass,  dragging  by  the  hand  a  naked  woman  from  a 
rocky  cave.  The  picture  is  encircled  by  a  scroll  bearing  the  motto, 
'  Tempore  patet  occulta  Veritas,'  together  with  the  initials  of  the  publisher, 
R.  S.  (Richard  Smith),  at  the  bottom.  Another  instance  of  Chapman's 
habit  of  '  imitation  '  is  perhaps  more  curious.  Many  of  the  most  moving 
passages  in  his  Epiccde  or  Funerall  Som^  on  the  most  disastrous  Death 
of .  .  .  Henry  Prifice  of  Wales  {i6\2)  boldly  adopt  long  extracts  from  Poli- 
tian's  Elegia  sive  Ept'cedion  In  Albierae  Albitiae  uiunatunn/i  exitiun,  ad 
Sismunduin  Stuphajn  eius sponsiim,  Opera,  Lyons,  1 546,  torn.  iii.  259  seq. 


GILLES  DURANT  467 

familiar  than  any  of  the  others  to  students  of  Elizabethan 
literature.'  In  thirty  six-lined  stanzas,  it  is  a  translation, 
contrived  with  singular  exactness,  of  a  French  poem 
entitled  '  Le  zodiac  amoureux  \  by  a  living"  French  author, 
who  first  published  his  work  anonymously  in  Paris  in  15<^7, 
reprinted  it  again  anonymously  in  i5tS<S,  and  published  it 
for  a  third  time,  and  then  under  his  own  name,  in  1594, 
the  year  preceding  the  appearance  of  Chapman's  English 
version. 

The  author  of  '  Le  zodiac  amoureux '  was  Gilles  Durant, 
sieur  de  la  Bergerie,  to  whom  frequent  reference  has  already 
been  made.  He  was  born  at  Clermont  in  the  Auvergne, 
about  1550,  and  died  at  Paris  in  1615,  after  a  long  and  suc- 
cessful career  at  the  Paris  bar.  Durant's  leisure  was  devoted 
to  poetry,  mostly  of  an  amorous  kind.  His  verse  was  not 
always  free  from  licentious  coarseness,  but  some  of  his  lyrics 
have  grace  and  charm.  A  long  sequence  of  sonnets  which 
he  addressed  to  an  imaginary  mistress,  whom  he  called 
Charlote,  abounds  in  conventional  conceits.     His  best-known 


1  With  regard  to  the  fourth  and  last  poem  in  the  voUime  doubt  is  justi- 
fiable as  to  Chapman's  authorship.  It  is  avowedly  no  original  composi- 
tion, but  a  translation  from  the  Latin.  The  title  runs,  '  The  Amorous 
Contention  oi  Phillis  and  Flora  translated  out  of  a  Latine  coppie,  written 
by  a  Fryer,  Aimo.  1400.'  The  English  writer  is  here  translating  with 
some  literalness  a  mediaeval  Latin  poem,  which  was  at  one  time  wrongly 
attributed  to  Walter  Mapes.  The  English  verse  is  followed  by  ninety- 
five  Latin  verses,  extracted  from  a  Latin  poem  entitled  '  Certamen  inter 
Phillidem  £-^  Floram '.  The  Latin  poem  probably  dates  from  the  twelfth 
century;  it  is  far  earlier  than  the  year  1400,  to  which  the  superscription 
assigns  it.  It  seems  to  have  been  first  printed  from  manuscript  in 
the  Beytriige  ziir  Gesc/iiciite  uftd  Li/cratiir,  &c.,  von  J.  Christoph 
Freyherrn  von  Aretin,  Part  IX,  pp.  301-9,  Munich,  September,  1806. 
There  is  a  thirteenth-century  copy  in  the  British  Museum,  MS. 
Harleian  978,  fol.  115  v°.  This  was  first  printed  in  1S41  in  the  Latin 
poems  commoiilv  attributed  to  Walter  Mapes,  edited  by  Thomas  Wright 
for  the  Camde'n  Society,  pp.  258-67.  The  rhyming  metre  of  the 
Latin  is  carefully  followed  in  the  English  version  in  Chapman's 
volume.  With  regard  to  the  authorship  of  the  English  rendering,  it 
is  noticeable  that  in  1598  it  was  separately  reissued,  and  was  then 
assigned  to  another's  pen— to  the  pen  of  '  R.  S.  Esquire'.  R.  S.  may 
very  probably  be  Richard  Stapleton,  who  prefixed  commendatory  verse 
to  Chapman's  volume  of  1594.  The  title  of  the  reissue  of  1598  ran  : 
'  Phillis  and  Flora.  The  sweete  and  ciuill  contention  of  two  amorous 
Ladyes.  Translated  out  of  Latine,  by  R.  S.  Esquire.  Aut  Marte  vel 
Mercurio.  Imprinted  at  London  by  W.  W.  for  Richarde  Johnes.  1598.' 
It  is  likely  enough  that  Chapman  had  no  hand  in  the  translation 
of  '  Phillis  and  Flora ',  but  civilly  rendered  his  friend  Stapleton,  whose 
work  it  was,  the  service  of  including  it  in  his  volume. 

H  h  2 


468  GEORGE  CHAPMAN  AND 

work  was  a  spirited  translation  into  French  of  Pa/ichayt's, 
a  series  of  Latin  love-poems  by  his  fellow-townsman  and 
close  friend,  Jean  Ronnefons  (1554-1614).  To  the  first  edition 
of  Ronnefons'  Latin  Pancharts  (1587)  Durant  appended  a 
second  part,  which  bore  the  title,  '  Imitations  tirees  du  Latin 
de  Jean  Ronnefons,  avec  autres  amours  et  meslanges  poetiques, 
de  I'invention  de  I'Autheur '  (i.  e.  Gilles  Durant) ;  and '  Le  zodiac 
amoureux '  first  appeared  among  these  '  amours  et  meslanges 
poetiques '.  This  volume  was  reissued  in  1588  with- 
out change.  In  1594  Durant's  contributions  reappeared 
separately  under  the  title  of  Les  Qiuvres  poetiques  die 
sietir  de  la  Bergerie,  avec  les  iinitaiions  tirees  du  Latin 
de  J.  Bouiiefons. 

Chapman  is  wholly  dependent  on  Durant.  It  will  be 
seen  from  the  reprint  of  the  French  and  English  poems, 
which  is  given  below,  that  not  only  is  Durant's  language 
accurately,  and  indeed  servilely,  reproduced  by  Chapman, 
but  the  Frenchman's  metre  is  borrowed,  and  many  of  his 
rhymes  are  anglicized  with  curiously  halting  effect.  Chapman 
omits  five  of  Durant's  stanzas  towards  the  end  of  the  poem, 
but  he  scarcely  gives  any  other  indication  of  originality.  He 
does  not  reproduce  the  name  of  Durant's  imaginary  mistress, 
'  Charlote ' ;  he  contents  himself  with  addresses  to  '  Deare 
Mistres  '  or  '  Gracious  Loue  '. 

Chapman's  endeavours  to  anglicize  the  French  epithets  of 
Durant  often  cause  him  embarrassment.  Durant's  '  les  neiges 
Riphees'  (stanza  2t,  I.  4)  is  a  reference  to  the  snows  of  the 
Riphaean  mountains  in  Scythia,  w^hich  are  familiar  to  classical 
students.  Rut  Chapman's  reproduction  of  this  expression  of 
Durant  in  the  English  words,  'the  white  riphees,'  is  very 
clumsy.  Most  of  Chapman's  English  is  clear  and  intelligible, 
but  '  the  white  riphees '  has  parallels,  of  which  the  following 
are  examples  (I  italicize  in  both  the  French  and  EngHsh  the 
words  mainly  concerned) : 

Stanza  7.       M'empestrant  parmy  I'or  de  tes  beaux  crepillons. 
And  fetter  me  in  gold,  ihy  crisps  implies. 

Stanza  8.       La  Terre  encore  triste,  &*  feroit  ouverture. 
The  Earth  (yet  sad)  and  otiertiwe  confer. 

Stanza  15.     S'eschaufferoit  encor'  dans  le  Signe  suyuant. 

Should  still  incense  inee  in  the  following  .Signe. 

Stanza  23.     Au  soriir  de  ce  lieu  si  brave  &  magnifique. 

To  sort  from  this  most  braue  and  pompous  signe. 

Stanza  26.     De  fait  quand  ie  verroy  les  iournees  s'accroistre. 
But  when  I  see  my  iournies  do  encrease. 


GILLES  DITRANT 


469 


In  the  following  reprint  the  spelling  and  punctuation  of  the 
originals  have  been  respected  : 


THE  AMOROUS  ZODIACK 

Dv  George  Chapman 

From  '  Ouids  Banquet  of  Sence. 
A  Coronet  for  his  Mistresse 
Philosophic  and  his  amorous 
Zodiackc.  With  a  translation  of 
a  Latine  coppie,  written  by  a 
Fryer,  Anno  Dom.  1400  .... 
London.  Printed  by  I.  R.  for 
Richard  Smith,  Anno  Dom. 
1595.'  (In  the  Dyce  Library 
at  South  Kensington.) 

Sigs.  Fg  recto — Gj  verso. 

1.  I  Neuer  see  the  Sonne,  but  sud- 

dainly 
My  soule    is   mou'd,   with    spite 

and  ielousie 
Of  his  high  blisse  in  his  sweete 

course  discerned : 
And    am    displeasde    to    see    so 

many  signes 
As  the  bright    Skye   vnworthily 

diuines, 
Enioy    an    honor    they    haue 

neuer  earned. 

2.  To    thinke    heauen    decks    with 

such  a  beautious  show 
A  Harpe,  a  Shyp,  a  Serpent,  and 

a  Crow  ; 
And  such  a  crew  of  creatures 

of  no  prises. 
But  to  excite  in  vs  th'  vnshame- 

fast  flames, 
With    which    (long    since),   loiie 

wrongd  so  many  Dames, 
Reuiuing    in    his    rule,    theyr 

names  and  vices. 

3.  Deare  Mistres,  whom  the  Gods 

bred  heere  belowe 
T'  e.xpresse  theyr  wondrous  powre 

and  let  vs  know 
That  before  thee  they  nought 

did  perfect  make 
Why  may  not  I  (as  in  those  signes 

the  Sunne) 
Shine   in    thy   beauties,    and   as 

roundly  runne. 
To  frame  (like  him)  an  epd- 

lesse  Zodiack. 


LE  ZODIAC  AMOUREUX 

By  Gilles  Durant 

From  '  Imitations  Tirees  du  Latin 
de  Jean  Bonnefons,  avec  autres 
amours  et  meslanges  poetiques 
de  I'invention  de  r.'\utheur.'  .... 
Paris,  printed  by  Abel  L'Angelier, 
1588.  (In  the  British  Museum.) 
Page  44. 


lamais  vers  le  Soleil  ie  ne  tourne  la 

veue. 
Que    soudain,    de    depit,    ie    n'aye 

I'ame  emeue, 
En  moy  mesme  jaloux  de  sa  feli- 

cite  : 
Et  porte  Ji  co[n]tre-coeur  qua[n]d 

ie  uoy  tant  de  Signes 
Luyre  dedans   le  Ciel,  ores   qu'ils 

soient  indignes 
De    iouyr    d"un    honneur    qu'ils 

n'ont  point  merite. 

Pe[n]sez  qu'il  fait  beau  voirdeda[n]s 

les  cieux  reluire 
Un  serpent,  un   corbeau,  un    Nef, 

une  lyre, 
Et  un  tas  d'animaux  qui  ne  ser- 

vent,  sinon 
De  nous  ramenteuoir  les  impudi- 

ques  flames, 
Dont   lupiter  iadis  abusa  tant   de 

femmes. 
Qui    font  reuiure   au    Ciel   leurs 

vices  et  leur  nom. 

Charlote,   que   les    Dieux    icy   bas 

firent  naistre 
Pour   mo[n]strer   leur   pouuoir,    et 

no'  faire  cognoistre 
Qu'ils  n'avoient  rien  cree  dauant 

toy  de  perfait ; 
Que  ne  m'est-il  permis,  comme  au 

Soleil  du  Mo[n]de, 
De  luyre  en  tes  beautez,  et  d'une 

course  ronde 
En  faire  un  Zodiaque  .\  iamais, 

comme  il  fait  ? 


470 


GEORGE  CHAPMAN  AND 


4.  With   thee  lie  furnish   both   the 
yeere  and  Sky, 
Running  in    thee    my  course   of 
destinie : 
And  thou  shalt  be  the  rest  of 
all  my  mouing, 
But  of  thy  numberles  and  perfect 

graces 
(To  giue  my  Moones  theyr  ful  in 
twelue  months  spaces) 
I  chuse  but  twelue  in  guerdon 
of  my  louing. 


De  toy  ie  fournirois  &   le  Ciel  & 

1 'an  nee, 
I'acheuerois     en     toy    ma     course 

destinee, 
Tu  serois  le  seiour  de  tout  mon 

mouuement : 
Mais  du  nombre  infiny  de  tes  graces 

perfaites 
(Pour  rendre  en  douze  moys  mes 

Lunes  satisfaites) 
len'en  voudroy  choisir  que  douze 

seulement. 


5.  Keeping  euen  way  through  euery 
excellence, 
He  make  in  all,  an  equall  resi- 
dence 
Of  a   newe    Zodiack ;    a   new 
Phoebus  guising, 
When     (without     altering     the 

course  of  nature) 
He  make  the  seasons  good,  and 
euery  creature 
Shall   henceforth   reckon  day, 
from  my  first  rising. 


Errant  par  ces  beautez,  d'une  juste 

cadance, 
le  ferois  en  chacune  egale  residence, 

D'un    nouueau    Zodiaque,    aussi 
nouueau  Soleil  : 
Lors,  sans  rien  alterer  I'ordre  de  la 

Nature, 
Je  rendroy  les  Saisons  :  &  chasque 
creature 
Se  reigleroit  le  iour  a  mon  premier 
resueil. 


6.  To  open  then  the   Spring-times 
golden  gate, 
And  flowre  my  race  witli  ardor 
temperate, 
He  enter  by  thy  head,  and  haue 
for  house 
In  my  first  month,  this  heaven- 

Ram-curled  tresse : 
Of  which,  Loue  all  his  charme- 
chains  doth  addresse  : 
A  Signe   fit   for  a   Spring   so 
beautious. 


Pour  ouurir  du  Printemps  la  saison 

redoree, 
Et    commencer   mon    cours    d'une 

ardeur  temperee, 
I'entreroy  par  ton  chef,  &  auroy 

pour  maison 
Durant    le    premier    moys,    ceste 

Tresse  bessonne  : 
Tresse  dont  Cupidon  tous  ses  liens 

fagonne, 
Signe  forte  k  propos  pour  si  gaye 

saison. 


7.  Lodgd  in    that   fleece  of  hayre, 
yellow,  and  curld. 
He  take  high  pleasure  to  enlight 
the  world. 
And    fetter    me    in    gold,    thy 
crisps  implies. 
Earth    (at    this   Spring    spungie 

and  langorsome 
With  enuie  of  our  ioyes  in  loue 
become) 
Shall  swarme  with  flowers,  & 
ayre  with  painted  flies. 


Couche    sur    la    toison    de    ceste 

Tresse  blonde, 
le  prendroy  grand  plaisir  ;\  esclairer 

le  monde, 
M'empestrant  parmy  Tor  de  tes 

beaux  crepillons : 
La  terre  a  ce  Printemps,  de  morne 

&  la[n]goureuse, 
A    I'enuy    de    nos    ieux,    deuenue 

amoureuse, 
Seroit  pleine  de  fleurs  &  Pair  de 

papillons. 


GILLES  DURAXT 


471 


8.  Tliy  smooth  embowd  brow,  where 
all  grace  1  see, 
My  second   month,  and   second 
house  shall  be : 
Which  brow,  with  her  cleere 
beauties  shall  delight 
The  Earth   (yet  sad)  and  ouer- 

ture  confer 
To    herbes,   buds,   flowers,   and 
verdure  gracing  Ver, 
Rendring  her  more  then  Sum- 
mer exquisite. 


Ton  beau  Front  re-uoute,  oii  toute 

grace  loge, 
Seroit    mon    second    moys    &   ma 

seconde  loge  ; 
Ce  front  resioiiiroit  de  sa  sere- 

nite 
La   Terre   encore    triste,   &    feroit 

ouverture 
Aux    herbes,    aux    bouto[n]s,    aux 

fleurs,  i  la  verdure, 
Et  rendroit  le  Printe[m]ps  plus 

gaillard  que  I'Este. 


9.  All  this  fresh  Aprill,  this  sweet 
month  of  Veftus, 
I  will  admire  this  browe  so  boun- 
teous : 
This    brow,   braue    Court    for 
loue,  and  vertue  builded, 
This  brow  where  Chastitie  holds 

garrison, 
This  brow  that  (blushlesse)  none 
can  looke  vpon, 
This   brow   with    euery   grace 
and  honor  guilded. 


Le  long  de  cest  Auril,  doux  mois  de 
la  Cyprigne, 

I'admireroy  ce  front  plain  de  dou- 
ceur benigne, 
Ce  front  braue  palais  d'Amour  & 
de  Vertu : 

Ce  front  que  Chastete  tient  en  sa 
sauuegarde, 

Ce  front  que  sans  rougir  iamais  on 
ne  regarde, 
Ce  front  de  toute  grace  &  d'hon- 
neur  reuestu. 


10.  Resigning  that,  to  perfect  this 
my  yeere 
He  come  to  see  thine  eyes  :  that 
now  I  feare ; 
Thine   eyes,  that    sparckling 
like  two  Twin-borne  fires, 
(Whose    lookes    benigne,    and 

shining  sweets  doe  grace 
Mays   youthfuU   month  with   a 
more  pleasing  face) 
Justly  the  Twinns  signe,  hold 
in  my  desires, 


Le  quittant  a  la  fin,  pour  acheuer 

ma  route, 
le  viendroy  voir  tes  Yeux  qu'encores 

ie  redoute, 
Tes  yeux  qui  esclaira[n]s  comme 

deux  feux  iumeaux 
(Dont  le  regard  benin  &  la  douceur 

luysante 
Rendroie[n]t  du  moys  de  May  la 

face  plus  plaisante) 
Ont  a  bon  droit  le  lieu  du  Signe 

des  Gemeaux. 


il.Scorcht  with  the  beames  these 
sister-flames  elect. 
The  lining  sparcks  thereof  Earth 
shall  effect 
The  shock  of  our  ioynd-fires 
the  Sommer  starting  : 
The    season    by   degrees    shall 

change  againe 
The    dayes,  theyr  longest    du- 
rance shall  retaine, 
The     starres     their    amplest 
light,  and  ardor  darting. 


Me    brulant    aux    rayons    de    ces 

Flames  iumelles. 
La  Terre  en  sentiroit  les  viues  etin- 

celles, 
Le  choc  de  nos  deux  feux  feroit 

naistre  I'Este : 
La  Saison  peu  h  peu  deuiendroit 

alteree, 
Les    iours    seroient    aussi    de    plus 

longue  duree, 
Tant  ces  Astres  sont  pleins  d'ar- 

deur  &  de  clairte. 


472 


GEORGE  CHAPMAN  AND 


12.  But  now  I  feare  that  thronde  in 
such  a  shine,' 
Playing   with   obiects,  pleasant 
and  diuine, 
I   should  be  mou'd  to  dwell 
there  thirtie  dayes  : 
O  no,  I  could  not  in  so  little 

space, 
With  ioy  admire  enough  theyr 
plenteous  grace, 
But  euer  Hue  in  sun-shine  of 
theyr  rayes. 


Or'  ie  doute  bien  fort  si  estant  en 

ce  Signe, 
louissant  d'un  obiect  si  plaisant  & 

si  digne, 
Ie    me    contenterois    d'y    estre 

trente  iours. 
Non,  non,  ie  ne  sqaurois  en  si  petit 

espace 
A  mon  aise  mirer  leur  beaut^  ny 

leur  grace. 
Ie  croy  que  ie  voudrois  y  demeu- 

rer  tousiours. 


13.  Yet  this  should  be  in  vaine,  my 
forced  will 
My  course  designd  (begun)  shall 
follow  still ; 
So  forth  I  must,  when  forth 
this  month  is  wore. 
And  of  the  neighbor  Signes  be 

borne  anew. 
Which  Signe  perhaps  may  stay 
mee  with  the  view, 
More  to  conceiue,  and  so  desire 
the  more. 


Mais  ce  seroit  en  vain  :  ma  volontd 

forc^e 
Suyuroit  bon  gre  mal  gre  sa  course 

commencee : 
Sur  la  fin  de  ce  moys  il  les  fau- 

droit  quiter, 
Et  au  signe  d'apres,  soudain  venir 

renaistre, 
Signe,  dont  la  beauts  m'empesche- 

roit  peut-estre 
De  plus  penser  en  eux  &  de  les 

regretter. 


14.  It    is   thy  nose   (sterne    to   thy 
Barke  of  loue) 
Or  which  Pyne-like  doth  crowne 
a  flowrie  Groue, 
Which      Nature      striud      to 
fashion  with  her  best. 
That  shee  might  neuer  turne  to 

show  more  skill : 
And  that  the  enuious  foole,  (vsd 
to  speake  ill) 
Might   feele   pretended    fault 
chokt  in  his  brest. 


C'est  ce  beau  Nez  traitis,  qui  dedans 

ton  visage 
Paroist  ainsi  qu'un  Pin  au  milieu 

d'un  bocage, 
Que  Nature  (ce  semble)  en  faisant 

k  tasche 
De  bien  former,  afin  qu'il  n'y  eust 

que  redire 
Et  qu'un  sot  enuieux,  coustumier  de 

medire, 
Desirant  s'en  mocquer  se  trou- 

uast  empesche. 


15.  The  violent  season  in  a  Signe  so 
bright, 
Still   more  and   more,   become 
more  proude  of  light. 
Should   still   incense   mee  in 
the  following  Signe : 
A  signe,  whose  sight  desires  a 

gracious  kisse, 
And    the   red    confines   of   thy 
tongue  it  is. 
Where,    hotter    then    before, 
mine  eyes  would  shine. 


En  un  Signe  si  beau,  la  Saison  vio- 

lente 
Tousiours  de  plus  en  plus  deuenue 

insolente, 
S'eschaufferoit    encor'    dans    Ie 

Signe  suyuant ; 
Signe  qui,  a  Ie  voir,  desire  qu'on  Ie 

touche 
D'un  baiser  gracieux,  c'est  ta  mi- 

gnarde  Bouche 
Ou  ie  me  feroy  voir  plus  chauld 

qu'auparauant. 


'  Misprint  for  '  sign  '. 


GILLES  DURANT 


473 


1 6.  So  glow  those  Corrals,  nought 
but  fire  respiring 
With  smiles,  or  words,  or  sighs 
her  thoughts  attiring 
Or,  be  It  she  a  kisse  diuinely 
frameth ; 
Or   that    her   tongue,  shoakes' 

forward,  and  retires, 
Doubling    like    feruent    Sirins, 
summers  fires 
In  Leos  mouth,'-  which  all  the 
world  enflameth. 


Aussi  ces  beaux  couraux  riefn]  que 
feux  ne  respire] n]t 

Soit  qu'ils  forment  un  riz,  qu'ils  par- 
lent,  qu'ils  soupirent, 
Soit  que  mignardement  ils  se  lais- 
sent  baiser : 

Soit  que  la  langue  encor'  s'elance  & 
se  recule 

Pour  redoubier  I'ardeur,  comme  la 
Canicule 
Brule,  au  Lyon,  le  Monde  &  le 
fait  embrazer. 


17.  And    now   to   bid    the    Boreall 

signes  adew 
I    come    to    giue    thy    virgin- 

cheekes  the  view 
To  temper  all   my  fire,  and 

tame  my  heate. 
Which  soone  will  feele  it  selfe 

extinct  and  dead. 
In  those  fayre  courts  with  mo- 

destie  dispred 
With  holy,  humble,  and  chast 

thoughts  repleate. 

18.  The   purple  tinct,   thy   Marble 

cheekes  retaine, 
The    Marble   tinct,    thy   purple 

cheekes  doth  staine 
The  Lilies  dulie  equald  with 

thine  eyes, 
The  tinct  that  dyes  the  Morne 

with  deeper  red, 
Shall  hold  my  course  a  Month, 

if  (as  I  dread) 
My  fires   to   issue   want   not 

faculties. 


De  Iti,  pour  dire  adieu  aux  Maisons 

Boreales, 
le  viendroy  visiter  tes  loiies  Virgi- 

nales, 
Pour  temperer  mes  feux  &  domp- 

ter  mon  ardeur, 
Qui  bien  tost  se  verroit  esteinte  & 

amortie 
Dedans  ce  beau  seiour,  couuert  de 

modestie, 
Remply  de   sainte   honte,  &   de 

chaste  pudeur. 

La  pourprine  couleur  de  tes  loues 

marbrines, 
La  marbrine  couleur  de  tes  loues 

pourprines, 
Ces  liz  si  proprement  aux  oeilletz 

egalez, 
Ce  taint  qui  fait  rougir  celuy-lk  de 

I'Aurore, 
Me  retiendroient  un  moys  :  &  si  ie 

Grains  encore 
Que  mes  feux  au  sortir  n'en  fus- 

sent  dd-solez. 


19,  To  ballance  now  thy  more  ob- 
scured graces 
'Gainst  them  the  circle  of  thy 
head  enchaces 
(Twise  three  Months  vsd,  to 
run    through    twise    three 
houses) 
To    render  in  this  heauen  my 

labor  lasting, 
I  hast  to  see  the  rest,  and  with 
one  hasting. 
The  dripping  tyme  shall  fill 
the  Earth  carowses. 


Apres    (pour   balancer   tes    graces 

plus  secrettes, 
Contre  celles  qu'on  voit  dessus  to[n] 

chef  pourtraites) 
Ayant  use  six  moys  ^  courir  six 

maisons. 

Pour  rendre  dans  le  Ciel  ma  peine 

continue, 
le   viendroy  voir  le  reste,  &  tout 

d'une  venije 
Aux  humains  ie  rendroy  les  plus 

mornes  saisons. 


i.  e.  '  shakes ' ;  var.  lecf.,  '  shoots.' 


Misprint  for  '  month  '. 


474 


GEORGE  CHAPMAN  AND 


20.  Then  by  the  necke,  my  Autumne  le  conimenceioy  done  par  to[n]  Col 

He  commence,  mon  Autonne, 

Thy  necke,  that  merrits  place  of  Col  qui  nierite  bien  ciu'une  place  on 

excellence  luy  donne 

Such  as  this  is,  where  with  a  Telle  que  celle-cy,  ou  d'un  certain 

certaine  Sphere,  compas 

In  ballancing  the  darknes  with  En  balancant  la  Nuit  avecques  la 

the  light,  lumiere. 

It  so  might  wey,  with  skoles^  of  II  puisse  balancer  en  semblable  ma- 

equall  weight  niere 

Thy  beauties  seene  with  those  Tes  beautez  que  Ton  voit  &  que 

doe  not  appeare.  Ton  ne  voit  pas. 

21.  Now  past  my  month  t'  admire  Ayant  passe  mon  moys,  a  mirer  la 

tor  built  most  pure  structure 

This    Marble    piller    and    her  De  ce  pilier  de  marbre  &  sa  linea- 

lyneature,  ture, 

I    come   t'  inhabit   thy  most  le  viendrois  habiter  tes  Tetons 

gracious  teates,  gracieux: 

Teates  that  feed  loue  upon  the  Tetons  qu'Amour  poistrist '  da[n]s 

white  riphees,  les  neiges  Riphees, 

Teates  where  he  hangs  his  glory  Tetons  oil  il  append  sa  gloire  &  ses 

and  his  trophes  Trophees 

When  victor  from  the   Gods  Ouand  vainqueur  il  revie[n]t  de 

war  he  retreats.  co[m]batre  les  Dieux. 

22.  Hid  in  the  vale  twixt  these  two  Tapy  dans   le   Vallon   d'entre   ses 

hils  confined,  deux  collines, 

This  vale  the  nest  of  loues,  and  Vallon    Nid    des    Amours    &    des 

ioyes  diuined  Graces  divines, 

Shall  I  inioy  mine  ease;  and  le  serois  a  mon  aise  ;    &  auroy 

fayre  be  passed  beau  passer. 

Beneath   these  parching  Alps ;  Sous  I'abry  de  ces  mons,  la  pre- 

and  this  sweet  cold  miere  froidure 

Is    first,    thys    month,    heauen  Dont  le  Ciel  en  ce  moys  nous  feroit 

doth  to  us  vnfold  ouuerture, 

But  there  shall  I  still  greeue  Mais  aussi  ie  seroy  fasche  d'en 

to  bee  displaced.  deplacer. 

23.  To  sort  from  this  most  braue  Au  sortir  de  ce  lieu  si  brave  &  ma- 

and  pompous  signe  gnifique, 

(Leauing  a   little   my  ecliptick  Me  destournant  un  peu  de  ma  ligne 

lyne  Ecliptique 

Lesse  superstitious  then  the  (Moins    superstitieux    que    n'est 

other  Sunne,)  I'autre  Soleil) 

The  rest  of  my  Autumnall  race  I'iroy  paracheuer  le  reste  de  I'Au- 

Ile  end  tonne 

To  see  thy  hand,  (whence  I  the  A  voir  ta  belle  Main,  dont  i'attens 

crowne  attend,)  la  couronne 

Since  in  thy  past  parts  I  have  Que  i'ay  peu  merite  en  chantant 

slightly  runne.  ton  bel  oeil. 


^  Misprint  for 'scales'. 

^  Mod.  Fr.  petrit,  i.e.  kneads,  handles. 


GILLES  DURANT 


475 


24.  Thy  iKind,  a  Lilly  gendied  of  a 
Rose 
That  wakes  the  morning,  hid  in 
nights  repose : 
And    from   Apollos   bed    the 
vaile  doth  twine, 
That     each     where     doth,     th' 

Idalian  Minion  guide; 
That  bends  his  bow ;  that  tyes, 
and  leaues  untyed 
The    siluer   ribbands    of   his 
little  Ensigne. 


Main  qii'un   Liz  enge[n]dra  d'une 

Rose  vernieille. 
Main    qui    resueille    I'Aubc    alors 

qu'elle  sommeille, 
Qui  du  lit  de  Phoebus  entr'rouure 

le  rideau  : 
Main  qui  guide  par  tout  le  mignon 

d'Idalie, 
Main  qui  bande  son  arc,  Main  qui 

lie  &  de-lie 
Les  ribans  argentez  de  son  petit 

bandeau. 


25.  In  fine,  (still  drawing  to  th'  Ant- 
artick  Pole) 
The  Tropicke  signe,  He  runne  at 
for  my  Gole,^ 
Which  I  can  scarce  expresse 
with  chastitie. 
I    know   in   heauen   t'  is   called 

Capricorne 
And  with  the  suddaine  thought, 
my  case  takes  home. 
So,  (heauen-like,)  Capricorne 
the  name  shall  be. 


En    fin,   tira[n]t  tousiours    vers   le 
Pole  Antarctique 

le  viendrois  attraper  I'autre  Signe 
Tropique, 
Signe  que  ie  ne  puis  chastement 
exprimer  : 

le    sqay    qu'icy    le    Ciel    I'appelle 
Capricorne, 

Et  puisque  en  y  pensant   soudain 
mo[n]  cas  prit  come 
le  le  veux,  comme  au  Ciel,  Capri- 
corne nommer. 


26.  This  (wondrous  fit)  the  wintry 

Solstice  seaseth. 
Where  darknes  greater  growes 

and  day  decreseth, 
Where  rather  I  would  be  in 

night  then  day. 
But  when  I  see  my  iournies  do 

encrease 
He  straight  dispatch  me  thence, 

and  goe  in  peace 
To  my  next  house,  where   I 

may  safer  stay. 

27.  This  house  alongst  thy  naked 

thighs  is  found. 
Naked   of  spot  ;    made   fleshy, 

firme  and  round, 
To  entertayne   loues   friends 

with  feeling  sport: 
These,  Ctipids  secret  misteries 

enfold. 
And    pillers     are    that     Venus 

Phane'^  vphold. 
Of  her  dear  ioyes  the  glory, 

and  support. 


Ce  lieu  fort  a  propos  tient  I'hyuernal 

Solstice 
Ou  I'obscurite  croist  &  le  iour  s'ape- 

tisse, 
Aussi   plus    volontiers   i'y   seroy 

nuit  que  iour: 
De  fait  quand  ie  verroy  les  iournees 

s'accroistre, 
Ie  le  quiteroy  Ik,  et  m'en  iroy  pa- 

roistre 
En  la  maison  suiuante  ou  ie  feroy 

seiour. 

Ceste  Maison  d'apres,  ce  sont  tes 

Cuisses  nues 
Nues    de    toute    tache,   arrondies, 

charniies, 
Qui  servent  aux  Amans  d'ebat  & 

d'entretien, 
Qui  cachent  le  secret  des  amoureux 

mysteres, 
Cuisses  les  deux  pilliers  du  Temple 

de  Cytheres, 
Des  doux  ieux  de  Cypris  la  grace 

&  le  soustien. 


'  M  isprint  for  *  goal '. 


Misprint  for  'fane 


476 


GEORGE  CHAPMAN  AND 


28.  Sliding  on  thy  smooth  thighs  to 
thys  months  end  ; 
To  thy  well  fashiond  Calues  1 
will  descend 
That  soone  the  last  house  I 
may  apprehend, 
Thy  slender  feete,  fine  slender 

feete  that  shame 
Thetis  sheene  feete,  which  Poets 
so  much  fame. 
And  heere  my  latest  season  I 
will  end. 


Glissant  au  bout  du  moys  sur  ces 

Cuisses  polies, 
le  me  lairrois  aller  par  tes  Greues 

iolies 
Pour  gaigner  vistement  la   der- 

niere  Maison  : 
Ce  sont  tes  petis  Pieds,  petis  Pieds 

qui  font  honte 
Aux  beaux  Pies  de  Thetys,  do[n]t 

ro[nJ  fait  tant  de  conte, 
En  eux  ie  finiroy  la  derniere  sai- 

son. 


[Not  translated  by  Chapman.] 


Alors,  assez  recreu   d'une  si  belle 

traite, 
Au   lieu   de   reposer  &  de  sonner 

retraite 
(Pour  rendre  mon    labeur  tous- 

iours  continuel) 
Ie  me  r'efiforcerois,  et  sans  reprendre 

haleine, 
I'iroy  voir  de  rechef  mon  Mouton  & 

ma  laine, 
Poursuiuant  sans  repos  ce  trauail 

annuel. 


LENVOY 


29.  Deare  mistres,  if  poore  wishes 
heauen  would  heare, 
I  would  not  chuse  the  empire  of 
the  water ; 
The  empire  of  the  ayre,  nor  of 
the  earth, 
But  endlessly  my  course  of  life 

confining 
In  this  fayre  Zodiack  for  euer 
shining. 
And  with  thy  beauties  make 
me  endles  mirth. 


Mignonne,  si  souhaits  avoie[n]t  lieu 

par  le  Mo[n]de, 
Ie  me  souhaiteroy  ny  I'Empire  de 

I'onde, 
Ny  I'Empire    de   I'air,  ny  de   la 

Terre  aussi ; 
Ie  voudroy  seulement,  sans  cesse, 

me  conduire 
Par  ce  beau  Zodiaque,  &  tousiours 

y  reluire 
loiiissant  a  iamais  de  tes  beautez 

ainsi. 


[Not  translated  by  Chapman.] 


Cela  m'estant  permis  :  ces  coureurs 

de  Pianettes 
Qui  font  couler  cja  bas  tant  de  vertus 

secrettes 
Et  forgent  (ce  dit-on)  les  heurs  & 

les  malheurs, 
N'y  seroient   plus   logez :    la  seule 

mere  niie 
Du    petit    Archerot   y   seroit    bien 

veniie, 
Tous  les  autres  iroient  chercher 

logis  ailleurs. 


GILLES  DURANT 

[Not  translated  by  Chapman.] 


477 


Saturne  est  trop  resueur:    hipiter 

est  trop  sage : 
Ce  grand   Dieu    belliqiieur  est   de 

trop  fier  courage : 
Le  messager  des  Dieiix  ce  n'est 

qu'un  babillard : 
La  deesse  des  bois  elle  est  trop  in- 

constante : 
Venus  demeureroit,  son  humeur  me 

contante, 
le  ne  voudrois  icy  rien  qui  ne 

fust  gaillard. 


[Not  translated  by  Chapman.] 


N'elle   ne   moy  n'aurions   maisons 

particulieres, 
Car  indififeremment  reluiroient  nos 

lumieres 
En    chasque    station  ;     mais    si 

i'estoy  force 
D'en  prendre  une  a  mon  gre  que  ie 

pourrois  elire, 
Souuent  au  Capricorne  on  me  ver- 

roit  reluire, 
Ce  resueur  de  Saturne  en   doit 

estre  chassd 


30.  But    gracious    Loue,    if    ielous 
heauen  deny 
My  life    this    truely-blest    va- 
rietie, 
Yet    will   I   thee  through   all 
the  world  disperse, 
If  not  in  heauen,  amongst  those 

brauing  fires, 
Yet  heere  thy  beauties  (which 
the  world  admires) 
Bright  as  those  flames  shall 
glister  in  my  verse. 


Charlote,  si  le  ciel  ialoux  de  mon 

enuie 
Par  si   beau  changement  ne  veut 

heurer  ma  vie, 
Tu  ne  lairras  pourtant  de  luyre  a 

I'univers : 
Sinon  dedans  le  Ciel  entre  les  feux 

celestes. 
Pour  le  moins  icy  bas  tes  beautez 

manifestes 
Comme  les  feux  du  Ciel  luiront 

dedans  mes  vers. 


INDEX 


Addison,  Josejih,  175. 

Aeneas,  Sylvius  J'opc  Pius  11),  81, 

Aeschylus,  17,  1S6,  427. 

A'Kcm[)is,  Tliomas,  312. 

Alamanni,  Luigi,  1 16-21, 117 «.,  iiS//., 

3S1  ;/. 
Alciati,  Andrea  (1492-1550),  19  and«., 

146. 
Alenv'on,   Francis,  Duke  d' :    suitor  of 

Queen    Elizabeth,    38-40,     112,    295, 

Alexander,  Sir  William,  Earl  of  Stir- 
ling, 256  n. ;  his  classical  Monarchicke 
Tragedies,  viz. :  Darius,  Croesus,  The 
Alexandrcan  Tragedy,  and  Julius 
Caesar,  447-9  ;  their  French  predeces- 
sors, 44S. 

Alexandrines,  3S9,  394. 

Alexis,  Guillaume,  prieur  de  Buzz, 
108  ;/. 

Amboise,  Adrien  d' :  his  llolopherne, 
402. 

America,  7 ;  Ronsard  on,  200,  201  ; 
Huguenot  settlements  in,  304-7  and  n. 

Amyot,  Jacques,  139,  151-9,  167,  175, 
17S-9,  286,  312,  451. 

Anacreon,  16,  17,  196-8,  210,  214 «., 
217-18,  220-1,  454. 

Andre,  Bernard,  44,  46. 

Angelier,  Charles  L',  73  and  n. 

Anjou,  Due  d',  183  ;;. 

Anne  of  Bretagne,  92  «. 

Anne  of  Denmark,  170. 

Appian,  395. 

Arber,  Edward,  35,  n.  3,  90  it. 

Arden  of  Faversham,  407. 

Aretino,  Pietro,  23,  118,;/.  2,  163. 

Ariosto,  Lodovico,  4,  6, 184  w.;  influence 
on  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  109  ;  his  satiric 
metre,  120;  his  influence  in  England, 
210,  2,i4 ;  translated  by  Desportes, 
215  ;  Lodge's  plagiarisms,  261  n.  ; 
Joseph  Hall's  debt,  352  ;  Orlando 
Furioso.  influence  on  Garnier,  398 ; 
h.\s  Gli  Siippositi:  French  and  English 
adaptations  by  Godard  and  Gascoigne, 
420. 

Aristophanes,  382  ;  his  Pint  us  trans- 
lated by  Ronsard,  382-3. 

Aristotle,  291  ;  his  Politics,  321  n.  ;  de- 
nounced by  Ramus,  324;  the  dramatic 
unities,  388,  390. 


Armstrong,  Mr.  E.,  viii;  on  Huguenot 
political  theory,  314  //. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  vi. 

Arthur,  Prince  of  Wales,  44. 

Ascham,  Roger,  130,  137;  views  on 
imitation,  251  n. ;  correspondent  of 
Ramus,  326. 

Ashton,  H.  :  his  Du  Bartas  en  Angle- 
terre,  349,  «.  3. 

Aubign^,  Theodore  Agrippa  d',  328-32  ; 
his  praise  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  9  «., 
391  ;  Huguenot  poet,  286 ;  his  wide 
literary  range,  329;  his  culture,  329; 
warrior  and  diplomatist,  330 ;  his 
Printeinps,  330 ;  Les  Tragi ques,  330- 
I  :  his  prose  works,  Histoire  Univer- 
selle  and  M^moires,  331-2  ;  influence 
in  England,  332  ;  Lord  Fairfax's  debt, 
332  andw.  ;  see  333,  339. 

Auvergne,  Martial  d'  (Martial  de  Paris), 
104-5. 

Aymon,  the  four  sons  of,  91. 


Bacon,  Anne,  Lady,  309  and  ;/.  2. 

Bacon,  Anthony  :  friend  of  Montaigne, 
43,  172,  173  and  «.,  174;  guest  of 
Beza  at  Geneva,  309. 

Bacon,  Francis,  Lord,  7,  166,  309;  his 
travel  in  France,  43  ;  his  prose  dic- 
tion, 138;  criticism  of  Rabelais,  16 1- 
4;  his  Essays,  171  ;  dedicated  to  An- 
thony Bacon,  174;  student  of  Ramus, 

327- 

Bacon,  Sir  Nicholas,  342  and  ;/.  2. 

Baif,  Jean  Antoine  de :  member  of 
French  Pleiade,  1SS-9,  206;  his  son- 
nets, 202  ;  his  experiments  with  clas- 
sical metres,  203-4;  ''is  Amor fuitif, 
219-20;  influence  on  Lodge,  231 ;  ini- 
tiates vers  inesures  in  France,  237 ; 
English  metrical  imitators,  238-9  and 
«.  2  ;  his  praise  of  Jodelle,  385  ;  his 
Braue  on  Taillebras,  an  adaptation  of 
Miles  Gloriosus,  391 ;  translates  Sopho- 
cles' .Inligone  and  Terence's  Eunu- 
chus,  391  ;  his  praise  of  Garnier,  395. 

Baif,  Lazare  de  :  translates  Sophocles' 
Elcitra  and  Euripides'  Hecuba,  382. 

Bailey.  John  C.,  x. 

Baird,  W.  M. :  The  Rise  of  the  Hugue- 
nots, 315  n. 


480 


INDEX 


Bandello.  Matteo,  135,  418  ;  his  French 
and  English  translators,  136  ;  his  plots 
used  by  Shakespeare,  362  ;  his  story  of 
Romeo  and  Juliet  in  France,  439-40. 

Banville,  Theodore  de,  98  n.,  210. 

Barclay,  Alexander :  his  French  Gram- 
mar, 78  and  n. ;  his  Ship  of  Fools,  99  ; 
The  Castle  of  Labour,  99-100;  his 
Toivre  of  Vertuc,  100 ;  see  also  52,  99, 
108. 

Barnes,  Barnabe,  241,  256  n. 

Barnfield,  Richard,  256  «. 

Baschet,  Armand  :  his  Les  Coinediens 
Italietis  a  la  coiir  de  France,  183  «. 

Bassano,  musician,  55. 

Beard,  Thomas :  on  Marlowe's  tragic 
career,  430-1. 

Beaufort,  Lady  Margaret,  129. 

Beaumarchais,  Pierre  de,  369. 

Belleau,  Remy  :  praises  Denisot,  46  n. ; 
member  of  Pleiade,  188-9,206;  trans- 
lates Anacreon,  197,  220;  his  lyrics, 
223,  225  ;  his  La  Reconnue,  391, 

Belleforest,  Franfois,  136. 

Bembo,  Pietro,  156,  261  n. 

Bentley,  Richard,  18. 

Bernard,  Jean  :  his  Guide  des  chemins 
d*  A  lighter  re,  41  n. 

Bemers,  Lord  :  his  translations  of  Frois- 
sart  and   Huon   of   Bordeaux,   95-7, 

i34-r- 

Bertaut,  Jean  :  his  metrical  skill,  208-9; 
resemblances  in  Shakespeare,  228;  his 
use  of  Alexandrines,  240  «. 

Berthelet,  Thomas,  372. 

Besant,  Sir  Walter,  ix. 

Beza  (or  de  Beze),  Theodore  :  his  elegy 
on  Budaeus,  70  «. ;  his  culture,  144, 
308-10;  Codex  Bezae,  308;  his  ver- 
sion of  the  Psalms,  309 ;  compared 
with  Marot's,  310  n.  ;  his  friendship 
with  the  Bacons,  309 ;  his  Icones 
dedicated  to  James  VI  of  Scotland, 
309  «. :  his  Abraham  sacrifiant,  401  ; 
seez^%o  150,  311,  325,  339! 

Bible  in  French  and  English,  1 39  seq.  ; 
French  edition  of  Lyons,  1 40;  Lefevre's 
version,  140-1  ;  Olivetan's  version, 
141  ;  Tyndale's,  141-2  ;  Coverdale's, 
141-3 ;  Matthew's  Bible.  143  ;  The 
Great  Bible,  143  ;  the  Genevan  ver- 
sion, 144;  first  Scotch  Bible,  144; 
Bishops'  Bible,  145  ;  Authorized  Ver- 
sion, 145. 

Birch,  Dr.  :  his  Memoirs  of  Reign  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  173  ;/. 

Biron,  M.  de  :  in  Shakespeare,  434 ;  in 
Chapman's  tragedies,  436-7. 

'  Bisouarts,  les,'  26, 


Blanchardin  and  Eglantine,  91. 
Blank  verse,  invention  of,  116,  117. 
Blomfield,  Reginald,  56  «. 
Boaistuau  (Launay),  Pierre,  136. 
Boas,  F.  S. :    on  Chapman's  treatment 

of  French  history,  436. 
Boccaccio,  Giovanni  :  studied  by  Mar- 
garet of  Navarre,  25  ;  founder  of  novel, 
135;    Painter's  loans,   136;   dramatic 
rendering    of    tale    of   Griselda,    368 ; 
popularity  in  England,  418;   see  also 
25,128-9. 
Bodin,    Jean :    his    political    theories, 
19-20;  his  religious  opinions,  320-1  ; 
his  De  la  R^publique,  39-40,  321-2  ; 
in  English  translation,  321  ;  a  standard 
text-book,  321  ;  his  Demonotnanie  des 
Sorciers  and  its  influence  in  England, 
53>  '^-  3>  322  ;  friend  of  Gabriel  Harvey, 
321  «, 
Boleyn,  Anne,  32,  39,  44. 
Bonnefons,  Jean,  468  seq. 
Bourbon,  Charles  de  :  claim  to  French 

crown,  295  ;  death  of,  297. 
Bourbon,  Nicolas,  44,  46. 
Brach,  Pierre  de,  172  ;  letter  to  Anthony 
Bacon  on  Montaigne's  death,  173  and  n. 
Branlome,  Pierre  de  Bourdeilles,  AJjbe 
de,  39,  41  «.,  292. 
Braun,  Georgius,  56  «. 
Brazil,     French     explorations    in,     7 ; 

Huguenots  in,  305. 
Bretog,  Jean,  407. 

Breton,  Nicholas  :  debt  to  Du  Bartas, 
350-1. 
Browne,  Sir  Thomas,  and  Rabelais,  164. 
Browne,  William  :  praise  of  Du  Bartas, 

347  j  praise  of  Gamier,  450. 
Brutus,  Stephanus  Junius,  pseudonym  : 
see  Du  Plessis-Marly. 
Buchanan,  George,  226,  n.  2  ;  his  Latin 
tragedies  of  Jephthes   and  Baptistes, 
382,  397-8;  praised  by  Sidney,  443. 
Budaeus,  see  Bud^,  Guillaume. 
Bud^    (Budaeus),    Guillaume,    17,    68, 
70,  72,  73  and  n.,  80,  160 ;  his   Lnsti- 
ttUion    du    Prince,   69    and  n.  ;    his 
Comnientarii    linguae     Graecae,   69 ; 
elegies   on,    70  w. ;    correspondent   of 
Rabelais,  160. 
Burbage,  James,  380. 
Burghley,  Lord,  sec  Cecil. 
Burke,  Edmund,  195. 
liyron,    Lord :     lines   on    Montaigne's 
scepticism,  i6Sm.  ;  201. 

C. ,  E.  :  his  Emaricdulfe,  256  n. 
Calais,  loss  of:    celebrated  in  French 
poetry,  29  seq.,  34,  35. 


INDEX 


481 


Calderon,  dc  la  Barca,  359. 

Call  of  the  ll\-sf,  the,  8  n. 

Calvin,  John  :  read  by  Margaret  of 
Navarre,  25;  his  doctrine,  27,  300; 
condemned  by  Ramus,  325  ;  his  hu- 
manism. 28  ;  his  logical  style,  65,  308  ; 
his  influence  on  Hooker,  138;  as 
prose  writer,  139,  178-9  ;  the  Genevan 
liible,  144;  his  career,  145-51  ;  his 
Instiltition  ChitUifiiiie,  \^z^-G  ;  trans- 
lated into  English,  1 48  ^fi/.;  Calvinism 
and  humanism,  285-7;  see  also  70;/., 
140,  159,  305,  323,  339. 

Cambridge  University  Press,  85. 

Camden,   William,    10,  48,  49   n.,  77, 

304- 

Campion,  Thomas,  238. 

Canada,  French  colonization  of,  7. 

Carew,  Richard,  lo,  48. 

Cartier,  Jacques,  8. 

Cary,  Henry  Francis,  ix. 

Casaubon,  Isaac,  304. 

Castel,  Etienne,  93. 

Castel,  Jean,  93. 

Catherine  of  Arragon,  103. 

Cato  the  Censor,  291. 

Caxton,  William,  78,  83-6,  89-97,  103 
71.,  ui,  134-5. 

Cecil,  Sir  Robert  :  friendly  to  Hugue- 
nots, 301. 

Cecil,  Sir  William  :  Lord  Burghley 
praised  by  Ronsard,  36,  192,  193,  Jt.  i  ; 
see  also  57,  309. 

Cellini,  Benvenuto,  22. 

Chamberlain,  John,  51. 

Champ-Fleury,  83  and  n. 

Champlain,  Samuel,  8. 

Chapman,  George,  translation  of  Mu- 
saeus,  112;  his  protest  against  classi- 
cism, 238-9  ;  translator  of  Homer,  348 
and«.2;hisactivity,2o7-8;  his  tragedies 
on  current  French  history,  435-8  ;  his 
Philip  Chabol,  436  ;  Biissy  d'Amboise, 
436 ;  Revenge  of  Btissy  iV Amhoise, 
436;  Birons  Conspiracy  and  Biron's 
Tragedy,  436  and  437  n. ;  his  Monsieur 
d' Olive  and  A  Hnniorous  Day's  Mirth, 
436  n.  ;  his  plagiarism  from  Gilles 
Durant,  230-1  and  Appendix  II,  465- 
77;  his  Quids  Banquet  of  Seine :  its 
publication  and  bibliography,  465  ; 
description  of  work,  466-7  ;  his  servile 
plagiarism,  468  ;  his  Amorous  Zodiacke, 
a  translation  of  Durant's  Le  Zodiac 
Ainoureux:  printed  in  parallel  columns, 
469-77. 
Charlanne,  Louis,  viii. 
Charlemagne,  15. 
Charletnagtte,  The  Life  of,  <j\. 


Charles  VII,  104. 

Charles  VIII,  21,  92  n. 

Charles  IX,  22,  23,36,152-3,  183,201, 

293.  3S4.  433,  440  n. 
Chartier,  Alan,  14, 79,  92  and  n.,  93  and 

n..  III. 
Chateau  Vieux,  see  La  Gambe. 
Chatillon,  Odet  de,  Cardinal,  38,  183. 
Chaucer,  Geoffrey,  90,   loi,    107,    183, 

223. 
Chenier,  Andre,  133. 
Chevallier,  Antony  Rudolf,  303. 
Chilpc'ric  le  Second,  404. 
Chorus,    in    Jodelles    CUopdtre,    386, 
38S  ;  in  Baif's  Brave,  391  ;  in  Mont- 
chrt^tien's     L'Escnssaise,    405-6 ;      in 
Hardy's    Coriolan,    415  ;     in    English 
Tragedy,  417  ;  in  Gascoigne'syticrti-Za, 
428;     its    disappearance    in    English 
tragedy,  429 ;   almost  dispensed  with 
by   Marlowe,  431  ;    his  substitute    in 
Dido,    432  ;      in     Lady     Pembroke's 
Antonie,  444;  in  Daniel's  Cleopatra, 
445  ;  in  his  Philotas,  446 ;   in  Earl  of 
Stirling's   tragedies,    448 ;    in   Shake- 
speare, 451-2  ;   Daniel's  view  of  im- 
portance of,  451-2. 

Christie,  Richard  Copley  :  his  biography 
of  Dolet,  83,  «.  2. 

Chrysostom,  87,  88  n. 

Cicero,  19,  81,  83,  90,  137.  167,  298  ?/., 
315. 

Cinthio,  Giraldi,  136;  his  Didone,  432. 

Civil  Wars  in  France,  The,  435. 

Clark,  Samuel,  327,  n.  2. 

Clement,  Jacques:  assassin  of  Henry  HI, 
296. 

Clercs  de  la  Basoche,  Les,  see  Theatre  m 
France. 

Gierke,  William,  449. 

Clouets,  The,  5. 

Colet,  John,  67,  68,  71,  72  ;/.,  77,  So. 

Coligny,  Gaspard  de,  38,  286,  294,  305, 

404,  433.  ,.      ^     ,      r^ 

Colvin,  Sidney  :   his  Early  Engravers 
in  England,  58,  w.  2. 

Comedy,  see  Drama. 

Comines,  Philippe  de,   14,  the  French 
Tacitus,  15. 

Compound  epithets:  in  France  and 
England,  245-9/,  Ronsard's  use  of, 
245-6 ;  Henri  Etienne's  criticism  of 
its  abuse,  246-7 ;  introduction  into 
England  by  Sidney,  247  and  «.,  344 
and  n. ;  used  by  Spenser,  248,  349 ;  by 
Daniel,  248;  by  Shakespeare,  248; 
by  John  Davies  of  Hereford,  351. 
See  also  Du  Bartas. 
Compte  du  Monde  Avantureux,  1 36. 


I  1 


482 


INDEX 


Cond^,  Prince  of:  slain  at  Jarnac,  294. 

Confreres  de  la  Passion,  Les  ;  see 
Theatre  in  France. 

Constable,  Henry,  253  ;  ilebt  to  French 
lyric,  255-8,  261. 

Copland,  Robert,  52  and  ii.  2,  78  n. 

Cordiere,  La  Belle,  see  sub  Labe, 
Louise. 

Comeille,  Pierre,  405. 

Cornwallis,  Sir  William,  174-5. 

Correggio,  4. 

Coryat,  Thomas,  164-5. 

Costello,  Louisa  S.,  ix. 

Cotgrave,  Handle :  his  French-English 
Dictionary,  47. 

Cotton,  Charles,  171. 

Coutras,  Battle  of,  296. 

Coverdale,  Miles,  14T-3. 

Cowley,  Abraham,  175. 

Cranmer,  Thomas,  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury, 44,  147,  303. 

Cretin,  Guillaume,  98. 

Cromwell,  Thomas,  44,  86. 

Cujas,  Jacques  de,  19,  315. 


Daniel,  Samuel,  on  cosmopolitanism  in 
literature,  10;  lyric  triumphs,  184; 
debt  to  Tasso,  235-6;  his  Defense  of 
Rhytne,  238  ;  use  of  compound  epi- 
thets, 248 ;  loans  from  the  French, 
230,  250,  253,  255,  256  n.  ;  debt  to 
Du  Bellay,  258-9,  Appendix  I,  455, 
462  ;  debt  to  Desporles,  259,  263, 
276  «.;  his  metre,  266;  lines  on  the 
eternizing  power  of  verse,  280;  praise 
of  Du  Bartas,  347  ;  loyalty  to  classical 
drama,  444  seq. :  his  Cleopatra,  debt 
to  Garnier,  445  and  n.  2  ;  his  Philotas, 
446  and  71.  2  ;  his  use  of  classical  con- 
ventions, 446  ;  his  view  of  the  Chorus, 

451- 
Dante,  Alighieri,  109,  183,  331,  347. 
DanviUier,  Antonius,  87,  w.  i. 
Danvillier  (or  Donviley),  Herbert,  87 

and  n.  i. 
Darmesteter,  Arsene,  vii. 
Davies,   Sir    John,  466 ;    debt   to   Du 

Bartas,  350-1. 
Davies,  John,  of  Hereford :  debt  to  Du 

Bartas,  350-1 ;  his  compound  epithets. 

Da  Vinci,  Leonardo,  22. 
Davison,  Francis:    his  Poetical  Rhap- 
sody, 126  and  n. 
Day,  John,  89. 
De  Bry,  T.,  307. 
De  Heere,  Lucas,  57. 
Dekker,    Thomas,    11,    48,    208;     his 


tragedies,  435,  438-9 ;  his  Spanish 
Tragedy,  439.^ 

De  la  BoetiC:  Etienne :  his  ContrUn, 
314;  friend  of  Montaigne,  314. 

De  la  Ferriere,  Comte,  58  ;/. 

De  la  None,  Francois,  38. 

De  la  Porte,  M.  :  his  Les  EpithHes ; 
description  of  English,  60  and  n. 

De  La  Taille,  Jacques,  448. 

De  la  Taille,  Jean,  on  '  unthrifty  loveli- 
ness', 268  71.  \  the  'unities',  388-9; 
his  Corrivaux,  409  «. ;  plea  for  dignity 
of  drama,  431. 

De  Lincy,  Le  Roux,  35, «.  i. 

Del  Sarto,  Andrea,  22. 

De  Magny,  Olivier :  on  the  loss  of 
Calais,  34. 

Denisot,  Nicholas  (1515-59),  45,  4^ 
and  71. 

De-saint-liens  (or  Holy-band),  Claude, 
46. 

De  Schickler,  Baron  F. :  on  the  Hugue- 
nots, 301,  n.  I. 

Des  Masures,  Louis :  his  David  cotn- 
batta7it,fugitif,  and  triomphant,  401-2 ; 

440- 

Desportes,  Philippe :  his  influence  m 
England,  208-12  ;  translates  poem  by 
Ariosto;  English  version,  215;  re- 
semblances in  Lyly,  218,  219M. ;  debt 
to  Sasso,  226  and  n.  2  ;  Lodge's  debt, 
231-4;  Daniel's  debt,  258-9;  Con- 
stable's debt,  257.  261 ;  Spenser's  debt, 
262-3;  resemblances  in  Shakespeare's 
Son7iets,  274-6  ;  see  also  237,  254,  267, 
n.  3,  286,  330,  391. 

De  Thou,  Jacques  Auguste,  28.  29. 

Dewes,  Giles  :  his  French  Grammar,  78. 

Dilke,  Lady,  x. 

Diodorus  Siculus,  152,  153. 

Dion  Cassius,  395. 

Disguises,  The,  420  n. 

Dolce,  Lodovico  :  his  Ragazzo,  adapted 
by  Larh'ey,  424 ;  his  Didone,  432  «. 

Dolet,  Etienne,  18,  83  and  n.  2,  115. 

Donne,  John,  criticism  of  Rabelais, 
161,  163,  165;  debt  to  Du  Bartas, 
351-4. 

Dorat,  Jean,  186,  188-9,  383- 

Dowden,  Prof.  E.,  x. 

Drama,  classical  :  in  France,  381  seq.; 
French  translations  of  Greek  drama- 
tists, by  Lazare  de  Baif,  and  Ronsard, 
381-3  ;  attitude  of  the  actors  to,  384  w. ; 
Jodelle's  plays  on  classical  topics, 
adaptation  of  Plutarch,  385-91  ;  Baif, 
391;  Belleau,  391;  Gr^vin,  391-3; 
Gamier,  393-9  ;  Buchanan,  397-8  ; 
Jean    de  la    Taille,  398  ;    Beza,  401  ; 


INDEX 


483 


MonlcluetiLii,   405,-6 ;    revolt  against, 
410;  classical  victory  in  tragedy,  412; 
its  final  victory  in  France,   416. 
Drama,    classical:     in    Kngland,    417; 
Marlowe's  attitude,  431  sfif.;    classical 
reaction,    442   50 ;     Sidney's    sujiport 
of,    44.' -3;    I'nizahellian    disciples    of 
classical   tragedy:    Countess  of  Pem- 
broke,  Kyd,  Daniel,  Fulke  Creville, 
the   Earl   of  Stirling,  John  Webster; 
their  debt  to  Garnier,  443-50 ;  classical 
elements     in     Shakespeare,     chorus, 
messenger's  speeches,  451-2. 
Drama,    Elizabethan  :       its     debt      to 
French  suggestion,  359-65  J  to  Italian 
suggestion,  362  ;    progress  of  English 
drama,     371;    Heywood,    371     seq.; 
Ileywood's  French  adaptations,  372- 
4 ;    Greene  and  Louise  Lab^,  374^5  ! 
strife   between   classical   and   popular 
forms,      416-17,      428-9;      romantic 
drama    prevails,    416;      French    and 
Italian  influences  in  England,  418-19; 
topical  drama  in  England,  418;    in- 
fluence of  Latin  and  Italian  comedy, 
419-22  ;    early    Elizabethan    tragedy, 
427  scq. ;  Gorbodiic,  427  ;  Jocasta,  428  ; 
classical   tendencies  opposed,   428-9; 
encroachment  of  farce  on,  429 ;  Mar- 
lowe's improvements,  363,  430-2  ;  his 
Dido,  432  ;    foreign  treatment  of  the 
topic,  432 11.  ;  plays  on  P'rench  history 
by    Marlowe,    Shakespeare,   Dekker, 
Henry  Shirley,  Chapman,  433-8,  452- 
3  ;  romantic  tragedy,  438  seq. ;  scrip- 
tural    drama,     George    Peele,    440 ; 
morality  in  Elizabethan  era,  429,  441  ; 
masque  and  pastoral,  441-2. 
Drama,  French  :    beginnings   of,    365- 
75  ;    religious    drama    in    France   and 
England,    365    seq. ;     the     morality, 
366  seq. ;  the  fabliau,  367  ;    farce  or 
sottie,  367,  369  ;  revue,  367  ;  '  morale 
comedie,'  367and  n.  1 ;  Maitre  Pathelin, 
368-9 ;      licence    of    French    drama, 
370-1 ;  religious  drama  prohibited  in 
France,  371 ;  irregular  drama  in  France, 
400-1  ;  sacred  topics,  401-2  ;  national 
and   current  political   topics,    403-4 ; 
foreign  history, 404-5 ;  current  domestic 
topics  in  France  and  England,  407-8  ; 
romantic  tragi-comedy,  409-10;  revolt 
against  classical  drama,  410  ;  the  sotlie 
revived,  410;   Italian  influences:   La- 
rivey,4io-1 2 ;  Hardy  and  tragi-comedy, 
413-15;      resemblances     to     English 
drama,  416  scq. 

Drayton,  Michael :  condemns  plagiarism 
from  French  j^oets,  212;  metre  in  his 

I 


odes,  239  and  11.  2  ;   French  influence, 
241-2;    commendation    of    Soothern, 
242,  n.  I  ;  his  Idea  collection  of  son- 
nets, 257  ;  on  the  eternizing  power  of 
verse,  '280  ;  debt  to  Du  Uartas,  350-1  ; 
as  dramatist,  435;     see  also  184,  207- 
8;   237,  253,  256;/. 
Dreux,  Battle  of,  293. 
Drummond  of  Ilawthornden  :  his  debt 
to  Passerat,  230,  234-5,  ^^PP-   i'  454» 
463-4  ;  see  also  256  «.,  258, ;/.  i,  348. 
Dryden,  John  :     on  Pen  Jonson's   pla- 
giarism,  250;    on  compound  epithets 
in  England,  344  n.;    criticism  of  Du 
Partas,  346  and  )i.,  348  ;    his  tragedy, 
The  Duke  of  Guise,  435. 
Du  Partas  :  Guillaume  Salluste,  his  eu- 
logy of  Du  Plessis,  313,  328-9  ;  333- 
^l,  ;  praise  of  Ronsard,  333;   his  epic 
Judith,  334  ;  his  L'Uranie  and  Muse 
Chrijtientie,    334 ;    his    La    Semaine, 
334  seq. ;  affinity  to  the  Pleiade,  335  ; 
use    of    double    epithet,    335-6 ;    his 
metres  and  rhyme,  336 ;  his  versatility, 
337 ;      treatment     of     nature,      337  ; 
parallel     with     Venus    and    Adonis, 
337  n.  ;  editions  of  La  Semaine,  339  ; 
French, German,  and  English  criticism, 
339 ;    his    admirers,    translators,   and 
disciples  in  England:  James  VI,  340- 
2  ;  Thomas  Hudson,  340  ;  James  VI's 
guest  at  Edinburgh,  342  ;    his  eulogy 
of  Queen  Elizabeth,  342  ;  Sidney,  343  ; 
Sylvester,    343-6  ;      Harvey,    34^-7  '■> 
Spenser,  Drayton,  Lodge,  and  Browne, 
347  ;    Ben  Jonson's  criticism,   347-8 ; 
Dryden,  349  ;  Wordsworth's  criticism, 
349 ;    influence   on   Spenser,   349-50 ; 
Hall's    praise,    350;    Drayton,    351; 
Nicholas  Breton,  351  ;  Sir  John  Davies 
and  John    Davies  of  Hereford,  351  ; 
Donne,  351-4  ;  Phineas  Fletcher,  355  ; 
Milton,  355  ;    wounded  at  Ivry,  343 ; 
see  also  9«.,   172,    245  «.,    246,  286, 
391. 
Du  Bellay,  Jean,  Cardinal,  160. 
Du    Bellay,    Joachim  :     on   the  loss  of 
Calais,  34 ;    praise  of  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots,   41  ;    praise  of  Alamanni,  119; 
h.\%  Deffetise  et  Illustration,  187-9;  his 
Les  Antiquities  de  Rome,  200;  Les  Be- 
grets,  200  ;  his  sonnets,  202  ;  influence 
m  England,  210-15,  253-6  ;  Spenser's 
praise,  211;  influence  on  Spenser :  The 
Visions  of  Bellay  and  The  Ruines  of 
Rome,  214-15;  Amoretti,  263  n.  ;  his 
octosyllabic  metre,  240  ;  resemblances 
in  Drayton,  242;  Sidney's  debt,  257; 
I      Daniel's  debt,  258-9,  App.  I,  462  ;  on 

i  2 


484 


INDEX 


the  immortality  of  poets,  277-9;  his 
views  on  the  drama,  383  and  n. ;  see 
also  199,  286,  334,  431. 

Dumain,  see  Mayenne. 

Du  Mans,  Jacques  Peletier,  43, 11.  2. 

Dii  Moulin,  Pierre,  303. 

Dunster,  Charles  :  on  Milton,  3.^5  n. 

Du  Perron,  Cardinal  Jacques  :  eulogy 
of  Ronsard,  194-5  ;  condemns  Baif's 
metrical  innovations,  239,  n.  i  ;  pane- 
gyric on  Henry  of  Navarre,  297. 

Du  Plessis,  Philippe  de  Mornay,  sei- 
gneur du  Plessis-Marly,  38,  311-13; 
welcomed  in  England,  311,  343; 
friend  of  Sidney,  312;  contributions  to 
devotional  literature,  312-13  ;  praised 
by  Du  Bartas,  312-13;  by  James 
Howell,  313;  '  Pope  of  Huguenots,' 
313;  his  Vindiciae  contra  Tyrannos, 
316-17,  319:  in  English  translation, 
317;  burnt  at  Cambridge,  320;  his 
lucid  style,  328. 

Durant,  Gilles  :  debt  of  Chapman  to  : 
Appendix  II,  465-77;  his  Le  zodiac 
ai/ioureux,  its  publication,  467 ;  his 
other  poetic  work,  467-8 ;  see  also 
207,  225,  231. 

Durer,  Albrecht,  58. 


Edward  I\'  of  England,  93. 

Edward  VI,  37,  49,  59,  88,  no,  300. 

Elizabeth,  Queen  :  her  linguistic  faculty, 
9  and  n. ;  her  French  wooers,  38-9, 
183  w.,  295,  436;  her  Mirror  of  the 
Sinftd  Soul,  39,  129;  Ronsard's  praise 
of,  39,  192  and  n. ;  her  French  music- 
ians, 55  and  n.  ;  Catholic  attacks  on, 
319-20;  heroine  of  French  drama, 
370  ;  Grevin's  praise  of,  391-2  ;  pro- 
tagonist in  L'Escossaise,  406 ;  see 
also  31-2,  35,  57,  294,  309,  437,  446 
and  n.  2. 

Elyot,  Sir  Thomas,  52,  70;  his  Gover- 
7iour,  52,  130,  137. 

Enfant s sans  Souci,  Les;  5^£  Theatre  in 
France. 

Erasmus  :  friendship  with  Colet  and 
More,  68-73  >  ^^^  ^l^'^  79)  i '  2,  269  n. 

Essays  :  use  of  word  by  Bacon,  171. 

Essex,  Robert  Devereux,  Earl  of,  297, 
,437  "•)  446  and  «.  2. 

Etaples,  see  Lefevre. 

Etienne,  Charles,  392,  n.  2, 

Etienne,  Henri,  28,  315  ;  refugee  at 
Edward  VPs  court,  37,  304;  his  pub- 
lication of  Anacreon,  196-7;  his  Pr^- 
celknce  du  langage  franfois,  209,  246- 
7 ;  on  compound  epithets,  248. 


Etiennes,  The,  17,  28,  82,  S3,  89,  286. 
Euripides,  347,  418,  427-8. 

Faber  Stapulensis,  see  Lefevre. 
Fairfax,  Lord  :  indebtedness,  to  Aubign^, 

372  and  «. ;    to  St.  Amant  and  Mal- 

herbe,  333  n. 
Faquet,  Edmund,  3S4 ;;. 
Fauquemberge,    et    de    Courtenay,   Le 

Comte  de,  Jodelle's  patron,  269-72. 
Fell,  Dr.  John,  88. 
Ferrabosco,  musician,  55. 
Ferrara,  Duchess  of,  1 1 3. 
P'iggis,  J.  N.,  his  Political  thought  from 

Gerson  to  Grotius,  319  «. 
Flamini,  Francesco,  117  n.,  118,  ;/.  2. 
Fletcher,  Giles,  256;;. 
Fletcher,  John,  359. 
Fletcher,  Phineas,  debt  to  Du  Bartas, 

355- 

Florida :  French  colonization  of,  7  ; 
Huguenots  in,  305. 

Florio,  John  :  his  translation  of  Mon- 
taigne's Essays,  170-1,  175,  343  «. ; 
his  IFor/d  of  IVords,  170. 

Fontainebleau,  22,  25,  32,  no. 

Fo.xe,  John,  89. 

Franciade,  La,  403. 

Francis  I,  17,  21,  22,  29,  38,  82,  98, 
no,  114,  116,  118-20,  140,  145,  152, 
300,  313,  436. 

Francis  II,  22. 

Fraunce,  Abraham  :  his  Victoria, 
adapted  from  Pasqualigo,  421  and  n.  i. 

Freewyl,  A  certaine  tragedie  etiiitnled, 
Italian  and, French  versions,  441. 

Fremy,  M.  Edouard.  23;;. 

French  actors  in  England,  372  and  «.  3; 
travelling  companies  in  France  and 
Germany,  378-9.  French  cookery,  50- 
I.  French  dancing,  52-3.  French 
fencers,  51-2.  French  grammars,  46- 
7 ;  in  England,  76  seq.  French  printing 
presses,  80  seq.     French  wines,  51. 

Frobisher,  Martin,  7. 

Froissart,  14-15,  95-6. 

(jaguin,  Robert,  102. 

Galen,  68. 

Gammer  Gurtons  Needle,  36S, 

Garamond,  Claude,  87. 

Gargantua,  his  Prophecie,  i6r. 

Garnier,  Robert,  393-9 ;  his  lyric  power, 
394  ;  Ronsard's  and  Baifs  praise,  395  ; 
his  recensions  of  Seneca,  Hippolyte,  La 
Troade,  Antigone,  395  ;  his  Porcie  and 
CornJlie,  395,428  ;  his  Ma/x  Antoine, 
395-7  ;  compared  with  Shakespeare's, 
397 ;  influence  on  Daniel's  Cleopatra, 


INDEX 


485 


444-5  and  ;/. ;  his  Sc'iitfiif ,  397  8 ;  his 
Bradaniautc,  398-9  ;  its  debt  to 
Ariosto,  398  ;  the  Corneille  of  the 
Renaissance,  405  ;  champion  of  clas- 
sical drama,  394,  400,  403,  417,  443, 
451;  his  Knglisli  discijiles:  Countess 
of  Tenihroke,  Kyd.  and  Daniel,  443 
scq.  ;  his  neglect  in  England,  448-9  ; 
Elizabethan  reverence  of,  450 ;  praised 
by  William  Browne,  450. 

Gascoigne,  George  :  inaugurates  comedy 
in  England,  419;  his  Supposes;  trans- 
lation of  Ariosto's  Gli  Suppositi,  420  ; 
influence  on  Shakespeare,  420 ;  his 
Ccrtayne  Notes  of  Instruction,  122; 
264  and  «.,  420  ;  his  Posies,  1S4  and  ;/., 
))ioneer  of  English  tragedy,  427;  his 
Joeasla,  adaptation  of  Dolce's  version 
of  Euripides'  Fhoenissae,  428  ;  obeys 
classical  canons,  428;  see  also  122, 184 
and  «.,  264  and  )i. 

Gaston  de  Foix,  403. 

Gaulois,  L esprit,  i^set/. 

Geneva  Psalter,  310. 

Gentillet,  Innocent  :  refutes  Machiavel- 
lian doctrines,  318;  in  English  trans- 
lation, 318,  320. 

Gerrard,  George,  352,'/.  i. 

Gerrard,  Mark,  57. 

Gilbert,  Sir  Humphrey,  7. 

Giotto,  4. 

Godard,  Jean  :  his  Les  Desguiscz  and 
its  English  version,  420//. 

Goddard,  William:  h.\s  Satyricall  Dia- 
logue, 276  «. 

Goethe,  339. 

Golding,  Arthur,  149,  150,  221,  312. 

Gorboduc:  first  English  tragedy,  427-8, 

445- 

Gosson,  Stephen,  360  and  n. 
Goudimel,  Claude,  28. 
Gouge,    William  ;    student    of  Ramus, 

327,  n.  2. 
Goujon,  Jean,  5,  28. 
Goulart,  Simon,  150  and  n.  2,  339  ;   his 

summary  of  Du  Bartas,  347,  ;/.  i. 
Gournay,  Mile,  de,  169. 
Gower,  John,  107. 
Grant,  Edward,  77. 
Greece,  conquered  by  the  Turks,  201. 
Greek  type  in  France,  87  ;   in  England, 

87,  88  and  n. 
Greene,  Robert,  136,  150;/. ;  his  use  of 

French,    243   and  n.   2,  244;    debt  to 

Louise    Lab^,    374-5 ;    his  Pandosto, 

414. 
Gregory  Smith,  Prof.  G.,  156;/. 
Greville,  Fulke,  256  «.,  312,  343  «.,  443 

seq, ;   his  tragedy  on  Cleopatra,  446  ; 


his  loyalty  to  classical  form,  446-7  ; 
his  Mustaplta,  La  Soltanc,  Alahain, 
447  ;  contemporary  praise  of,  447. 
(ircvin,  Jacques,  2S6,  received  by  Queen 
Elizabeth  in  l^ngland,  391  ;  praises  her 
linguistic  powers,  9  n.,  392  ;  his  I.a 
Trhoritre  and  Les  Jisbahis ;  debt  to 
Jodelle  and  Charles  Etienne,  392  and 
;/.  2 ;  his  tragedy  of  Char,  392-3, 
395  ;    compared   with    Shakespeare's, 

393- 

Gresham,  Sir  Thomas,  56. 

Griffin,  Bartholomew,  256  n, 

Grindal,  Edmund,  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury, 147. 

Gringoire,  Pierre,  98-100;  his  Chdteau 
de  Labour  translated  by  Barclay,  100, 
loi,  108;  his  dramatic  work,  369-70, 
413;  actor  and  manager  of  I^es  Enfant s, 

378. 

Grolier,  Jean,  28,  29. 

Gruter,  Jean,  34,  n.  3. 

Guarini,  Giovanni  Battista,  5,  210;  his 
I\istor  Fido,  174  «.,  269  ;/.,  441-2. 

Guevara,  Antonio  di,  156. 

Guicciardini,  Francesco,  4. 

Guilleville,  Guillaume  de,  103  and  n. 

Guise,  Fran9ois,  Due  de,  294,  404,  433. 

Ciuise,  Marie  de,  41. 

Guise,  The,  435. 

Guises,  The,  293  seq. ;  death  of,  296, 
433;  tragedies  on  by  Marlowe,  Dray- 
ton, Dekker,  Henry  Shirley,  Webster, 
Dryden,  and  Lee,  435. 

Guisiaiie,  La,  435. 

Guysien,  L.e,  404,  435. 


Hakluyt,  Richard,  7,  194  ;  account  of 
Huguenot  colonial  discoveries,  306  ; 
admirer  of  Ramus,  328  and  n.  I. 

Hall,  Joseph,  16  n.;  on  Rabelais,  161 ; 
on  compound  epithets,  247  and  n.  2 ; 
on  Du  Bartas,  350,  352. 

Hallam,  Henry,  140  ;/. 

Hardy,  Alexandre  :  parallel  with 
Shakespeare's  career,  413;  his  versa- 
tility, 413;  his  tragedies,  413  seq.; 
use  of  classical  themes,  414,  448  ;  his 
Alariamne,  414;  his  tragi-comedies, 
414;  Ft'listnene :  its  debt  to  Monte- 
mayor's  Diana,  414  ;  I^andoste  :  debt 
to  Greene,  414  ;  his  Coriolan  and 
French  adaptations,  415  ;  his  dramatic 
outinil,  415  ;   his  influence,  415-16. 

Harington,  Sir  John,  on  Rabelais,  161. 

Harrison,  William,  50, «.  2,  51,  «.  2. 

Harvey,  Gabriel,  61  and  n.;  praise  of 
Amyot,  156  and  n.  ;  advocacy  of  clas- 


486 


INDEX 


sical  prosody,  238;  on  Rabelais,  161, 
163;  friend  of  Bodin,  321  n.  ;  admirer 
of  Ramus,  326  ;  admirer  of  Dii  Bartas, 
346-7- 

Hatzfeld,  Adolphc,  vii. 

Hawes,  Steplicn,  100-2  ;  his  work  and 
metres,  107-9. 

Hebcr,  Richard,  213  «. 

Heine,  326. 

Heliodorus,  152-3. 

Henry  IV  of  lingland,  93. 

Henry  VH,  31,  44,  372  and  n.  3. 

Henry  VHI,  6,  31-2,  44,  55-7/78,  95- 
'02-3,  130,  370,  374. 

Henry,  Prince,  son  of  James  I,  344. 

Henry  H  of  France,  22,  no,  152,  385, 
387. 

Henry  HI  of  Prance,  22,  23,38,  53,  «.  3, 
152,  156,  295-6,  319,  3S4,  404,  439 
and  n. 

Henry  IV  of  France  (Henry  of  Navarre), 
22-4,  53,  ;/.  3,  319,  404;  his  study  of 
Plutarch,  155-6  ;  his  culture,  286  ;  his 
leadership  of  the  Huguenots,  295  seq. ; 
becomes  a  Catholic,  297,  299  ;  crowned 
king,  297  ;  friendship  of  Aubigne, 
329-30,  332 ;  James  I's  correspondence 
with,  341,  406;  at  Ivry,  343;  his 
interest  in  drama,  384 ;  hero  of  drama, 
433,  435-6- 

Henslowe,  Philip,  11,  420  «.,  434-5. 

Herball,  The  Crete,  96. 

Herbert  of  Cherbury,  Lord,  241  n. 

Hcrbier,  Le  Grand,  96. 

Heroet,  Antoine,  114  and  «. 

Herrick,  Robert,  211. 

Heywood,  John,  98,  107  ;  his  interludes, 
372  56'^.;  French  influence  on,  372,  «.  i; 
his  Four  P's  and  Merry  Play  between 
the  Pardonner  and  the  Frere,  372 ; 
their  French  prototypes,  373;  Merry 
Play  betiueen  /ohan  the  Husba7tde,  Tyb 
the  wife,  &c.,  and  its  French  parallel, 
373;  his  dialogue  of  wit  and  folly, 
374;  his  metre,  374;  comic  element, 
374  ;  his  successors,  375. 

Holbein,  56,  57. 

Holinshed,  Raphael,  88. 

Holy-band,  see  De-saint-liens,  Claude. 

Homer,  186,  194,  286,  334,  348. 

Hooker,  Richard,  20, 138,  148  «.,i50-i ; 
159'  327- 

Hopkins,  John,  113. 

Horace,  210,  215-16,  241,  242  and  n., 
331.  352  ;  on  the  immortality  of  verse, 
276-7. 

Hotel  de  Pourgogne,  see  Theatre  in 
France. 

Hotel  des  Villes  Ilanseatiques,  56. 


Hotman,  Francis,  315    17,  320,  339  ;  his 

Franco  Gallia  :    in    Latin,    316  ;     in 

French  translation,  316. 
Howard,  Sir  Edward,  100. 
Howard,  Henry,  see  Surrey,  Earl  of. 
Howell,    James,    his    Instructions  for 

Forreine  Travell,  24  «.,  43,  313,  332. 
Hudson,    Thomas,    translator    of    Du 

}ia.T\.a.s^?,Jiidith,  340. 
Hugo,  Victor,  25,  133,  331,  339,  359. 
Huguenot    Society    Publications :     see 

301,  n.  1. 
Huguenots,  The   Message   of   the  :    see 

Book  V,  285-355. 
Huon  of  Bordeaux,  95,  96. 

I  mi  tat  to  Christi,  129. 

Imitation,  Renaissance  theory  of,  249 
seq.;  Pultenham,  and  Montaigne,  and 
Dryden  on  the  plagiaristic  tendency, 
250;  iinitatio  and  its  divisions;  Ben 
Jonson's  definition,  251  ;  Ascham's 
treatment  of,  251  n.;  Johann  Sturm's 
work  on,  251  //.;  Scaliger's  maxim, 
252  ;   Vida's  view  of,  252,  «.  3. 

Immortality  of  verse,  Poet's  vaunt  of, 
276-81. 

Interlude,  see  Heywood  and  Drama. 

Italian  acting  companies  in  France,  410. 

Ivry,  Huguenot  victory  at,  297. 

James  I  of  England  (James  VI  of  Scot- 
land) ;  his  culture,  41  ;  patron  of 
Florio,  170;  attitude  to  Huguenot 
opinion,  320  ;  admirer  and  friend  of  Du 
Bartas,  340-2;  translates  VUranie, 
340 ;  letter  of  invitation  to  Du  Bartas, 
341  n. ;  his  protection  of  Montchretien, 
406  ;  see  57  and  448. 

James  I  of  Scotland,  40,  41. 

James  IV  of  Scotland,  372. 

James  V  of  Scotland,  41,  57. 

James  VI  of  Scotland,  see  James  I  of 
England. 

Jamyn,  Amadis,  219,  26S  and  n.,  273. 

Jarnac,  Battle  of,  294. 

Jebb,  Sir  Richard,  iS. 

Jenye,  Thomas,  213  and  «.,  214. 

Joan  of  Arc,  93,  452. 

Jodelle,  Etienne,  member  of  the  Pl^iade, 
1S8-9,  206;  his  satire  on  L'Hopilal, 
292  ;  sonnets  to  a  noble  patron  and 
comparison  with  Shakespeare,  269-72, 
274,  275,  ;/.  I  ;  as  dramatist,  384-92  ; 
his  Eugene,  3S5  ;  j)raised  by  Baif  and 
Ronsard,  3S5 ;  his  alleged  atheism 
and  comparison  with  Marlowe,  385, 
430-1  ;  his  Cleopdtre,  3S6-9,  428  ; 
compared   with    Shakespeare's    treat- 


INDEX 


4«7 


ment  of  the  topic,  3S7  ;  his  treatment 
of  the  unities,  ^SS-y ;  versification, 
389  ;  his  treatment  of  comedy,  3X9  ; 
Eugi-ne,  389-90  ;  his  Didon,  390,  432  ; 
Marlowe's  debt,  432  ;  his  imitators  in 
Prance,  391  scq.,  396   /. 

Johnson,  VV.,  354  n. 

Joinville,  Jean,  Sieur  do,  96. 

Jones,  Inigo,  57. 

Jonson,  lien,  on  Montaigne,  174;  his 
I'cHiis's  Riiiuvivay,  219;  use  of  'In 
Memoriam  '  stanza,  241  n. ;  his  defini- 
tion of  poetry,  251-2  ;  criticism  of  Du 
Bartas,  347  8  ;  criticism  of  Shake- 
speare, 3S6  ;  his  character  study,  412; 
breach  of  the  dramatic  unities,  449  and 
w.  2. 

Joseph  h  Chaste,  402. 

Journal  du  Theatre  frattfais,  Le,  384  «. 

Julius  II,  Pope,  370. 

Jusserand,  J,  J.,  vii,  viii. 

Juvenal,  81,  331,  352. 

Kalcndriey  dcs  Bergiers,  Le,  185, 
Kastner,  Prof.  L.  E.,  118,  «.  2  ;  his  work 

on    French  versification,   204  n.  ;    on 

English  indebtedness  to  French  poets, 

235  «.,  258,;/.  I,  464;;. 
Kendall,  Timothe,  his  Floivers  of  Epi- 

gravimcs  quoted,  70  n. 
Ker,  Prof.  W.  P.,  on  Rabelais,  75  n. 
Keyser,  Martin  de,  141-2. 
Knolles,  Richard,  40;/. 
Kyd,  Thomas:    rendering  of  Garnier's 

Cornilie,  444-5,  449;   his  admiration 

for  Gamier,  444-6. 

Lab^,  Louise  (La  belle  Cordiere)  :    in- 
fluence on  Robert  Greene,  374-5. 
La  Fontaine,  Jean  de,  113. 
La  Gambe,   Cosme    (Chasteau-Vieux), 

439>  «•  3- 

Lamb,  Charles,  175. 

Lambarde,  William,  59. 

Laneham,  Robert:  his  Letter,  52,  «.  2, 
94  «. 

Lang,  Andrew,  x. 

Lanier,  Jean,  musician,  55  and  n. 

Lanier,  Nicolas,  musician,  55  n. 

Lanson,  Gustave,  vii. 

Larivey,  Pierre  de  :  his  comedies,  410 
seq.\  debt  to  Italy,  411,  421-7;  his 
Les  Trompen'es  drawn  from  Secchi's 
Lyigaiini,  411  ;  use  of  prose,  411  ;  his 
translation  of  Straparola,  411  ;/.  ;  his 
Esprits,  a  forerunner  of  Moliere's 
£icole  des  Maris,  412;  his  character 
study,  412;  combination  of  classical 
and  popular  drama,  412;  his  Zp  Fidelle 


and  Pas(Hialigo's  II  Fedele,  421-3  ;  his 
Lc  J.aquais  and  Dolce's  Kagazzo, 
424  ;  resemblances  to,  in  Shakespeare's 
comedies,  422-7. 

La  Rochelle :  Huguenot  stronghold, 
302-3  ;  siege  of,  295. 

Lasso,  Orlando  di,  54,  n.  i. 

Laudonniere,  Rene  de,  305-6. 

Laumonier,  Paul,  biographer  of  Ronsard, 
36,  11.  I,  192  n. 

Launay,  see  Boaistuau. 

Le  Challeux,  Nicholas,  306. 

Lee,  Natiianiel,  435., 

Lefevre,  Jaccjues,  d'Eta]ilcs  :  his  trans- 
lation of  the  Bible,  140-3. 

Lc  Fevre,  Raoul,  84  n. 

Lefranc,  Abel :   his  study  of  Rabelais, 

74.  «•  I- 

Leicester,  Robert  Dudley,  Earl  of,  44, 
192,  193,  n.  I,  238. 

Le  Jars,  Louis  :  his  comedy  of  Lucelle, 
408-10. 

Le  Maire  de  Beiges,  Jean,  79,  98,  100-3, 
108,  120  n. 

Le  Moine,  Jacques,  306-7. 

L'Empereur,  see  Keyser. 

Le  Roy,  Adrien,  237,  n.  2. 

Lery,  Jean  de,  353. 

L'Hopital,  Michel  de,  291-4;  chancel- 
lor of  France,  291  ;  his  tolerance,  291  ; 
his  culture,  292 ;  Ronsard's  praise, 
292 ;  his  attempts  at  pacification, 
293-4 ;  Sidney's  praise,  293  ;  his 
death,  294. 

Lily,  William,  77. 

Linacre,  Thomas,  6,  67,  68,  70,  77- 

Linche,  Richard,  256  n. 

Lipsius,  Justus,  172. 

Lodge,  Thomas,  136,  184;  tribute  to 
Desportes,  212;  debt  to  France,  230-4, 
255-6,  257-8;  translations  from 
Desportes  and  Ronsard,  231-4,  242-3, 
260,  261  «. ;  Appendix  I,  455-62,  465  ; 
debt  to  Italian  poets,  261  ;/. ;  praise  of 
Du  Bartas,  347  and  «.  1  ;  translates 
Goulart's  commentary  on  Du  Bartas, 
347,  H.  1. 

Longaville,  434. 

Longiis,  153-4. 

Lorraine,  Cardinal  of,  314. 

Louis  XI,  40,  92,  370. 

Louis  XII,  32,  79,  92  «.,  95,  370,  374. 

Louis  XIV,  12. 

Lownes,  Humphrey,  355. 

Luther,  Martin,  139,  140,  300,  309. 

Lupo,  musician,  ^c,, 

Lupset,  Thomas,  72. 

Lydgate,  John,  90,  103  «.,  107,  123. 

Lyly,  John,  his  Euthues,  135,  247,  n.  %  '■, 


488 


INDEX 


his  lyrics,  184,  21S,  2iy  and  )i.  ;  comic 
dialectic  in  his  comedies,  423;/. 
Lyndsay,  Sir   David  :    debt   to   Frencii 
drama,  372,  ;/.  3. 

Machiavelli,  Niccolo,  415,  6,  20,  23, 
156,  313,  317-19;  in  Elizabethan 
drama,  318  w. ;  in  Marlowe's  Jew  of 
Alalia,  318  w. 

Macrine  (Macrinus),  Jean  Salmon, 
115  n. 

Madan,  F.,  85  n. 

Madeleine,  daughter  of  Francis  I,  41. 

Mailre  Pathelin,  368-9  and  n.  i,  3S9 ; 
story  in  England,  372. 

Malherbe,  Fran9ois,  209,  210. 

Malory,  Thomas,  91-2. 

Maniere  de  bien  traduire  d'liiic  langite 
en  a  III  res,  la,  18. 

Mantuanus,  Baptista,  426  and  7i.  2. 

Mapes,  Walter,  467. 

Margaret,  Duchess  of  Burgundy,  103  n. 

Margaret  of  Navarre  :  her  culture,  23, 
141  ;  her  court  at  Nerac,  25,  1 13-14  ; 
her  Miroii-  de  Fdvie  pdche?-esse  trans- 
lated by  Queen  Elizabeth,  39,  129; 
elegies  on,  45  and  n.,  129;  Les  Mar- 
guerites de  la  JMargiierite  la  Princessc, 
128;  Heptameron,  128-9;  debt  of 
Painter's  Palace  of  Pleasure,  129,  136; 
patronage  of  Amyot,  152  ;  admirer  of 
Rabelais,  160 ;  Ronsard's  elegy  on, 
205  71.  ;  author  of  '  mysteries  ',  366  ; 
attacked  on  stage,  370. 

Margaret  of  Scotland,  wife  of  Louis  XI, 
40,  92. 

Marie  Antoinette,  195. 

Marlowe,  Christopher:  his  Hero  and 
Leander,  112;  his  Massacre  at  Parts 
and  the  death  of  Ramus,  294,  326-7, 
433-5  ;  introduction  of  Machiavelli  on 
the  stage,  318  ;  his  conception  of 
tragedy,  363 ;  his  career  compared 
with  Jodelle's,  385-6,  430-1  ;  his 
reforms  in  tragedy,  430-2  ;  his  Taiii- 
burlaine,  431  ;  elevation  of  tragic 
diction,  431,  442;  his  Dido,  390,  432 
seq. ;  foreign  treatment  of  the  subject, 
432  n.  ;  his  extravagances  in  tragedy, 
438-9  ;  see  also  359,  444,  465. 

Marot,  Clement,  7,  14,  16,  25,  44,  65, 
loi,  129,  186  ;  influence  of  his  poetry 
and  metres  on  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  J  07, 
111-13,  120,  121-6,  127;  influence  on 
Spenser,  125-6,  185,  237,  256  ;;.  ; 
other  English  imitators,  184-5;  l^i^ 
version  of  the  Psalms,  290,  309-10  ; 
compared  with  Beza's  version,  310  n. 

Marot,  Jean,  in 


Martial,  1 13. 

Marty-Laveaux,  vii,  ;/.  i. 

Mary  Stuart,  Queen  of  Scots,  41,  192, 

194,    200;     subject    of    drama,    404; 

Montchretien's  IJEscossaisc,  405-6. 
Mary  Tudor,  sister  of  Henry  VIII,  32, 

78-9,  95,  374- 
Mary,  Queen  of  England,  33,  no,  143, 

300. 
Mather,  Richard  :    student  of  Ramus, 

327- 
Matthieu  Pierre  :  his  La  Guisiade,  435. 
Mayenne,  Due  de,  434. 
Medici,  Catherine  de',   22,  38,   183  «.; 

her  J'ot'sies,  23  ti.  ;    her  patronage  of, 

Alamanni,    n7-iS;   of  Ronsard,  192; 

her    suppression    of    the    Huguenots, 

293-4;    Huguenot  attacks    on,    315- 

16. 
Medici,  Lorenzo  de',  22. 
Melin  de  Saint-Gelais,  see  Saint-Gelais. 
Memo,  Era  Dionysius,  55. 
Menippus  of  Gadara,  298  n. 
Meres,   Francis  :    on  Marlowe's  career, 

431- 

M^ronee,  403. 

Afejy  Tales,  &c.,  372,  n.  2, 

Messengers'  speeches,  403  ;  in  Daniel's 
Philotas,  446  ;  relic  of,  in  Shakespeare, 
452. 

Metre  :  English  debt  to  French  lyric 
metres,  101-2  ;  Skeltonian  metre : 
Skelton's  use  of  French  metres,  103 
seq.  ;  his  short  lines  and  rhyming  coup- 
lets, 104-7  !  his  successors,  107  ; 
Wyatt's  debt  to  Marot,  107  ;  Hawes's 
seven-lined  stanza,  108  ;  Surrey  and 
blank  verse,  no;  blank  verse  an 
Italian  invention,  n6  ;  Surrey's 
debt  to  Alamanni,  117;  Wyatt's  debt 
to  Alamanni,  119-20;  to  Marot,  121- 
2  ;  rhyming  schemes  of  sixaijts  and 
kiiitaiits,  122;  the  rondeau,  123; 
Wyatt's  debt  to  Marot,  1  24  ;  metrical 
terms  borrowed  from  France,  236-7  ; 
Baif's  plea  for  'vers  mesures ',  237; 
introduction  of  classical  metres  into 
England,  237-8;  Gabriel  Harvey's 
influence,  Sidney's  and  Spenser's  ex- 
periments and  revolt,  238  ;  classicists' 
attack  on  rhyme,  238 ;  Campion's, 
Daniel's,  and  Chapman's  views,  238-9  ; 
Ronsard's  and  Baif's  five-line  rhyming 
stanza,  239;  Drayton's  and  Shake- 
spen  re's  debt,  239-40;  the  //i  A/ewor/a/n 
stanza  :  Bertaut,  Du  Bella)-,  and  Sidney, 
240  ;  Ben  Jonson  and  Lord  Herbert  of 
Cherbury,  241  «.  ;  odes  in  France  and 
England,  241-3;  dramatic  metre,  Jo- 


INDEX 


489 


delle's,  389 ;  metre  of  Dido,  390  ;  Gar- 

iiier's    use  of  the    Alexandrine,  394; 
Miintlay's   lines,  421  ;    in   Lady  I'em- 

broke's  Anionic,  444.    Sec  also  under 

Sonnet. 
Meyer,   Edward  :    on   I\Iachiavclli  and 

tin-  Elizabethan  Drama,  318  ;/. 

Michelangelo,  5,  22. 

Milton,    331,    339;    his    debt    to   Du 

Hartas,  3-io,  35?  and  n. 
I\Iiroir  dc  VAinc pechcrcssc,  Le,  39. 
Mirror  for  Ma^i^istratcs,  348,  n.  2. 

Moliere,  352,  368;  disciple  of  Larivey, 
41 1-12. 

Montaigne,  Michel  de  :  friend  of  An- 
thony Bacon,  43;  his  prose  style,  139, 
147;  admirer  of  Plutarch,  155,  165 
.f(V/.,  250;  fust  of  modern  essayists, 
166  ;  his  egotism,  166-7  ;  his  scepti- 
cism, 168  ;  Essays  in  Kngland,  170  and 
n.  ;  Brach's  account  of  his  death,  172, 
173  and  ;/.  ;  influence  on  Shakespeare, 
176,  177-8,  179;  friend  of  De  la 
Boetie,  314;  as  actor,  382;  pupil  of 
Buchanan,  443  ;  sec  also  5,  21,  44,  66, 
286,  289,  319,  43S. 

Montchretien,  Antoine  de,  286,  322 ; 
his  Traicti  de  F  GLconoinie  Politique, 
323;  invents  term  'Political  Economy', 
406  ;  his  VEscossaisse,  405-6  ;  loyal 
to  classical  canons,  405,  412;  the 
Racine  of  the  Renaissance,  405  ;  his 
lyric  feeling,  405  ;  his  Sophonishe  and 
Les  Lacaies,  406  ;  his  death,  406  ;  his 
David,  on  I '  Adultf-rc,  440. 

Montemayor,  George:  his  Diana,  ^1^, 
422,  n.  I. 

Montgomerie,  Alexander,  256  n. 

Montjoy,  Christopher,  302  «. 

Mornay,  sec  Du  Plessis. 

Mouhy,  Chevalier  de,  384;;. 

Mountjoy,  William  Blount,  Lord,  71. 

More,  Sir  Antonio,  57. 

More,  Sir  Thomas  :  epigram  on,  44 ; 
satire  on  English  imitation  of  French 
fashions,  48  and  w.,  49-50 ;  his  culture, 
67-8,  79,  80;  satirized  by  Skelton, 
106;  Brantome  on,  292;  Du  Bartas 
on,  342  and  n.  2  ;  his  Utopia,  66,  71-7, 
79-80  ;  French  translation,  73  and  n. ; 
see  also  6,  93.  159. 

Morley,  Prof.  Henry,  ix. 

Morley,  Thomas,  237,  ;/.  2. 

Morte  d'' Arthur,  91-2. 

Moryson,  Fynes,  50,?/.  2,5i,«.3,59,«.2. 

Moschus,  influence  in  France  and  Eng- 
land, 219. 

Muflet,  Thomas,  245  n. 

Munday,    Anthony  :    his    Two  Italian 


Clcntleinen,  adapted  from  Pasqualigo, 

421  and  n.  i,  422-3. 
Murct,  Marc  Antoine,  382,  392. 
Musaeus,  1 1 2. 
Music  :  renaissance  music,  54-5;  nffinity 

of,    with   poetry,    190;     Ronsard     and 

Shakespeare  on,  228-9. 
Mussato,  Albertino,  381  ?t. 
Musset,  Alfred  de,  92. 
Mustard,  Wilfrid  P.,  100. 

Nantes,  Edict  of,  299;   its  revocation, 

300. 
Napoleon  III,  80  n. 

Nashe,  Thomas  :  satire  on  English  imi- 
tation of  the  French,  50  and  n.  i  ;  his 
Jack  IVilton,  135  ;  his  praise  of  Gold- 

ing,   150;    debt    to   Rabelais,    163-5; 

demand  for  'compound  words',  247; 

on  the  eternizing  power  of  poetry,  279  ; 

praise  of  Sidney,  342,  w.  2  ;    see  also 

321  n. 
Navagero,  199. 
Navarre,  Henry   of,    see  Henry   IV   of 

France. 
Navarre,  Margaret  of,  see  Margaret  of 

Navarre. 
Niccols,  Richard,  348, ;/.  2. 
Nonesuch  Palace,  32,  56. 
Norris,  Sir  Henry,  213. 
North,  Roger,  second  baron,  156. 
North,  Sir  Thomas,  138  ;  translation  of 

Plutarch's  Zztw,  156-8,  157  «.,  170. 
Norton,    Thomas :    translates    Calvin's 

Institution  Chretienne,  1 48-9.  See  also 

Gorbodtic. 

Old  Hundredth,  The,  310-11. 
Olivetan,  Pierre  Robert  :  his  version  of 

the  Bible,  141-5. 
Ovid:  Metamorphoses,   112,    150,    221, 

312;   his  view  of  the  immortality  of 

verse,  276-7. 
Oxford,  Edward  de  Vere,  Earl  of,  227. 
Oxford  University  Press,  85. 

Painter,  William  :  his  Palace  of  Plea- 
sure, its  debt  to  Margaret  of  Navarre's 
Heptameron,  129,  135. 

Palissy,  Bernard,  28. 

Palladio,  57. 

Palsgrave,  John,  V Esclarcissemcnl  de  la 
languc  francoise,  47,  78  seq.  ;  reprint, 
8g  ft.,  95,  98. 

Paolo  Veronese,  5. 

Paradin,  Guillaume  :  on  the  loss  of 
Calais,  34,  n.  3. 

Paris,  Martial  de  i^Martial  d'Auvergne), 
104,  105. 


490 


INDEX 


Parker,  Matthew,  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury :  friendly  to  Huguenots,  300-2. 

Parma,  Alexander  of,  297. 

Parsons,  Robert,  320. 

Paschale,  Lodovico,  261  n. 

Pasqualigo,  Luigi  ;  his  //  Fede/e,  in- 
fluence in^Frnnce  and  England,  421-3. 

Pasquier,  Elienne,  43,  44  and  «.,  92  n.  ; 
his  criticism  of  Ronsard,  185  ;  of  Maitre 
Pathclin,  369. 

Passerat,  jean,  207  ;  adaptations  from, 
by  Drummond  of  Hawthornden,  234- 
6  ;  Appendix  I,  463-4. 

Pater,  Walter,  ix,  199. 

Patrick,  Simon,  318. 

Pattison,  Mark  -.  ix  ;  on  Joseph  Scaliger, 

304- 

Peele,  George  :  his  David  and  Beth- 
sabe  and  French  counterparts,  440. 

Pembroke,  Mary  Herbert,  Countess  of, 
312  ;  leader  of  classical  reaction,  443  ; 
her  Tragedie  of  Antonic,  444-5. 

Pepvvell,  Henry,  94. 

Percy,  William,  256  n. 

Perlin,  Estienne :  his  criticism  of  the 
English,  59  and  n.  4. 

Persius,  81,  352,  465. 

Petit,  de  Julleville,  Louis,  vii,  35,  «.  2, 
106  n. ;  his  works  on  tlie  French  drama, 
367,  «.  2,  13,  384  w. 

Petrarch,  Francesco,  4 ;  vogue  in  t  ranee, 
16,  24  ;  influence  on  Wyatt  and  Surrey, 
109,  III,  120;  influence  in  England, 
210,  347,  254,  256;;.,  261  11. 

Phaedrus,  17. 

Phaer,  Thomas,  348  and  «.  2. 

Philip  H,  of  Spain,  317. 

Philonah'e,  fciH Die  d'Hippolyte,  40S. 

Picot,  Emile  :  his  Les  Fran^ais  Ita- 
lianisanis,  55  n, 

Pilon,  5. 

Pindar,  16,  186,  214W.,  242,  276-7. 

Pisan,  Christine  de,  14,  93,  94. 

Pius  II,  see  Aeneas  Sylvius. 

Plagiarism,  see  Imitation. 

Plato,  17,  72,  8r,  167,  329. 

Plautus,  360,  368,418;  his  A/enaec/imi, 
382  ft.  ;  his  A/i/es  Gloriosus,  English 
and  French  adaptations,  419  and  n.; 
his  pedant  in  Bacchides,  425,  n.  i. 

Pleiade,  The  :  see  Book  IV  (pp.  183- 
281)  passim:  members  of,  186-9; 
poetic  themes  of,  196-201 ;  poetic 
forms  of,  201-4  )  phraseology,  205-6  ; 
their  successors,  206-10  ;  the  influence 
of  their  themes  in  England,  210-36; 
their  metrical  influence  in  England, 
236-43  ;  the  influence  of  their  vocabu- 
lary, 243-5  ;  compound  epithets,  245- 


9  ;  their  sonneteering  influence,  252-66; 
Sliakespeare's  debt,  266-76 ;  their 
'eternizing'  pretensions,  276-81. 

Plutarch,  17,  19,  286;  his  Lives,  19; 
Amyol's  and  North's  translations,  152 
seq.,  167 ;  Montaigne's  admiration, 
250 ;  use  for  French  and  English 
drama,  363,  386-7,  415,  418,  446,  451, 
454;  his  Morals,  153-4,  ^66- 

Politian,  Angelo  :  debt  of  Chapman  to, 
466. 

Politiques,  Les,  296  seq.  :  scorned  by 
Aubignd,  330.  See  also  Satire  Minip- 
pce,  La. 

Ponsonby,  William,  343,  «.  i, 

Pontoux,  Claude  de,  257  and  n.  2. 

Pope,  Alexander,  quoted,  30. 

Prothero,  Rowland  E.,  x. 

Prout,  Father,  ix. 

Provincial  centres  of  learning  in  France, 
25  seq. 

Psalms  :  Marot's  versions,  battle-songs 
of  Huguenots,  290.  See  also  Beza  and 
Marot. 

I'seudonyms  of  French  actors,  410. 

Ptolemy  Philadelphus,  188. 

Piicelle  de  Doin  Ketny,  La,  403. 

Purfoot,  Thomas,  46. 

Purgation   of   Lord    Wentworth,   The, 

35.  «•  3- 
Puritan,  word    first   used  by  Ronsard, 

193  and  n.   2. 
Puttenham,    George,   92  «.,    109,    no, 

1 15  «.,  214  «.,  249  n. 
Pynson,  Richard,  79,  86. 

Quintilian,  137. 

Rabelais,  Fran9ois,  5,  6,  15,  16,  44,  65, 
66,  74,  80,  98, 116  «.,  139, 178-9,  286, 
369  ;  influence  of  More's  Utopia  on,  74 
and  notes,  75-6,  80 ;  his  life  and 
work,  159-65  ;  Gargantua  and  Pan- 
tagruel,  160-1  ;  English  version,  161  ; 
Shakespeare's  notices  of,  162  ;  Bacon's 
notices  of,  162  n. ;  influence  on  Nashe, 
163-5  ;  '"•cts  in  a  '  moral  comedie ', 
367, ;/.  I. 

Racine,  Jean,  133. 

Kaimondi,  Marcantonio,  58. 

Rainolds,  John,  319. 

Rainolds,  William,  319. 

Raleigh,  Sir  Walter,  7  ;  debt  to  Hugue- 
not colonial  experience,  306-7. 

Ramee,  Pierre  de  la,  21,  28;  death  of, 
294,  4.^3;  323-S  ;  his  challenge  of 
Aristotle's  authority,  324;  his  gram- 
mars, 324;  theology,  325;  assassina- 


INDEX 


49' 


tion  of,  336  and  //.  ;  influence  in  Eng- 
land, 326-7  ;  his  Dialfitiis  in  England, 
327;  founded  lectureships  in  Paris, 
32S  ;   praised  by  Halcluyt,  328. 

Ramus,  sec  Katiu'e. 

Raphael,  4. 

Reed,  Edward  Uliss,  Poems  of  Lord 
Fairfax,  333  //. 

Regnault,  Franfois,  143. 

Regnier,  Mathurin,  Donne's  notice  of, 
352  and  n, 

Returuej'rom  Parnassus,  16  ;/..  212. 

R/it'loriqiieurs,  Les,  97. 

Rhyme,  see  under  Metre. 

Ribaut,  John,  305  seq.  ;  his  story  of 
Florida,  included  in  Ilakluyt,  305-7  ; 
slain  in  Florida,  306. 

Rich,  Lady,  343  n. 

Richmond,  Earl  of,  33,  47,  79,  no. 

Rigal,  Eugene  :  his  Le  Thc'iUre  Fran- 
eais,  378;  his  Hardy  et  le  theitre 
fran^-ais,  384  «.,  413  n. 

Rivers,  Earl,  93. 

Robertson,  Mr.  J.  M.,  his  Montaigne 
and  Shakspere,  1 76  n. 

Robin  and  Marion,  365. 

Roland,  Madame,  155. 

Holland,  Romain,  228  n. 

Roman  de  la  Rose,  97-8,  103  n. 

Ro/ndo  et  Juliette  on  the  French  stage, 

439- 

Rondeaus,  123.  124. 

Ronsard,  Pierre  de,  5  ;  praise  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  9  «.,  192,  «.  2  ;  as  reformer, 
16,  66  ;  praise  of  Francis  I,  22  ;  praise 
of  Catherine  de'  Medici,  23  ;  his  poetic 
honours,  25  ;  his  religion,  28  ;  praise  of 
Sir  William  Cecil,  36, 192, «.  2  ;  praise 
of  Mar>-  Queen  of  Scots,  41  ;  praise  of 
the  ladies  Seymour,  45-6  ;  praise  of 
Denisot,  46  «.  ;  description  of  the 
French  dance,  53,  n.  3  ;  praise  of 
music,  54,  n.  1  j<  influence  on  English 
metres,  107  ;  debt  to  the  Italian  son- 
net, 120  ;  supersedes  Marot,  125  ; 
influence  on  the  English  lyric,  183- 
chief  of  new  French  poetic  school,  185, 
iSS;  his  career,  189-95;  his  views  of 
music  in  relation  to  poetry,  190;  his 
religious  orthodoxy,  190-1  ;  his  Pagan- 
ism, 191  ;  his  protests  against  the 
Huguenots,  191  ;  his  self-assurance, 
191  ;  his  royal  friends,  192;  guest  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  192  ;  praise  of  Earl 
of  Leicester,  192,  ;/.  i  ;  attack  on 
Huguenots,  193  ;  first  uses  word  '  Puri- 
tan',  193,;/.  3;  his  confidence,  194; 
last  years,  death,  and  funeral  eloge, 
1 94-5 ;  his  Anacreontic  themes,  1 96-8 ; 


his  poetic  forms  and  metres,  201-3; 
his  sonnets,  202-3 ;  use  of  Greek  words, 
205  and  ;/. ;  his  lyric  themes,  206-8  ; 
intluenccin  England,  209-16;  Watson's 
praise,  212;  bis  Discours  des  Miseres 
de  ee  temps  in  English  translation,  213  ; 
Watson's  adaptations,  213;  Soothern's 
plagiarisms,  213-14;  Puttenham's  criti- 
cism, 214 ;/.  ;  debt  to  Horace,  215-16  ; 
influence  on  Lyly,  218-19  and  «.;  on 
Spenser  and  Siiakespeare,  220 ;  his 
Venus  and  Adonis,  221  ;  resemblances 
to  Shakespeare,  222-9;  plagiarized  by 
Lodge,  231,  233  ;  his  '  Amours',  237  ; 
his  rhyming  schemes,  239 ;  his  five- 
line  stanza,  239-40 ;  his  odes,  Dray- 
ton's and  Lodge's  imitations,  241-3; 
his  vocabulary,  244;  use  of  compound 
epithets,  245-6  ;  spreads  to  England, 
247-8  ;  his  sonnets,  influence  in  Eng- 
land, 254  seq.;  translated  by  Lodge, 
260,  261  n. ;  Appendix  L  455-7 ; 
Spenser'sdebt,  262;/.;  metrical  schemes, 
influence  in  England,  264-7,  269;  his 
vaunt  of  immortality,  276-9,  281  ; 
praise  of  L'Hopital,  292;  influence  on 
Huguenot  poets,  329  ;  praised  by  Du 
Bartas,  333,  335-6 ;  translates  Aris- 
tophanes' Flutiis,  382-3  ;  his  praise  of 
Jodelle,  385 ;  of  Gamier,  395  ;  see 
also  5,  133,  286,  2S8,  297,  312,  323, 

337.  384.  391.  394.438,454- 
Rose  Theatre,  11. 
Rossaeus,    G.    Gulielmus,    pseudonym, 

see  Rainolds,  William. 
Royal  Exchange,  56. 
Royden,  Matthew,  465-6. 
Rucellai,  Giovanni,  116. 
Rutland,  Earl  of,  303. 
Rutland,  Countess  of,  343  n. 


Sackville,  Thomas,  his  Mirror  0/ Magis- 
trates, 183  and  n. 

Saint-Amant,  Marc  Antoine  de,  333  n. 

Saint  Bartholomew  Massacre,  293  seq. ; 
plays  on,  433  seq. 

Sainte-Beuve,  C.  A.,  vii. 

Saint  Denis,  battle  of,  294. 

Saint-Gelais,  Melin  de,  115  and  «., 
120,  122  and  n. 

Saint  Germain,  Peace  of,  294. 

Saint  Simon,  Louis,  Due  de,  331. 

Saintsbury,  Prof.  G.,  118,   n.  2. 

Sallust,  Si. 

Sancerre,  siege  of,  295,  353. 

.Sannazarro,  Jacopo,  120,  121  and  ;/., 
261  n. 

Sasso,  Pamphilo,  226,  n.  2. 


492 


INDEX 


Satire  Mt'iiifpt'e,  La,  298  and  «.,  352  ; 
in  English  translation,  298,  299  and  ;/. 

Savile,  Sir  Henry,  88  ;/. 

Scaevola,  Q.  Mutius,  19. 

Scaliger,  Joseph  Justus,  9  ;/.,  1;,  28,  37, 
59,  286,  304. 

Scaliger,  Julius  Caesar,  17.  252,  381  ;/. 

Scalii^criaiia,  9  11. 

Sceve,  Maurice,  257. 

Schelling,  F.  E. :  on  Chapman's  treat- 
ment of  French  history,  436. 

vScot,  Reginald  :  his  Discffi'e7-ie  of  Witch- 
craft, 53,  n.  3;   debt  to  Bodin,  322. 

Sebonde,  Raymond  de  :  Montaigne's 
translation  of,  166. 

Segr^,  Carlo,  119  11. 

Seneca,  90,  418  ;  hisZ*^  dementia,  I46  ; 
studied  by  Montaigne,  167 ;  vogue 
among  Huguenots,  286;  French  study, 
382  ;  influence  in  Jodelle's  CUopdtre, 
3S6  ;  French  translation  of  his  Medea 
and  Agamemnon,  391  ;  father  of 
English  tragedy,  427  ;  Sidney's  praise 
of,  442. 

Seymour,  Ladies  Anne,  Marguerite,  and 
Jeanne,  45  and  «.,  46,  129. 

Shakespeare,  William  :  on  English  imi- 
tation of  French  fashions,  48-9  ;  on 
French  horsemanship,  52  ;  French 
dancing,  53;  his  imitative  spirit,  61  ; 
debt  to  f/tion  of  Bordeaux,  96 ;  debt 
to  North's  Plutarch,  157-9;  debt  to 
Rabelais,  162-3  ;  debt  to  Montaigne, 
168,  176-8;  kinship  with  Horace  and 
Ronsard,  215-16;  debt  to  French 
lyric  suggestion,  217,  220-4,  226-30  ; 
his  use  of  the  word  'air',  237,  n.  2; 
use  of  French  words,  243-5,  248 ;  use 
of  compound  epithets,  248-9  and  n. ; 
debt  to  French  sonneteers,  253-6; 
resemblances  in  French  sonnets,  266- 
76  ;  reference  to  French  Civil  Wars, 
297  ;  his  acquaintance  with  a  Hugue- 
not family,  302  n. ;  to  Puritan 
psalm-singing,  311;  his  republic 
an  argument,  314;  resemblances 
to  Du  Bartas,  337  and  «.,  340  ; 
his  blending  of  tragedy  and  comedy, 
361  ;  his  debt  to  Bandello,  362, 
363 ;  debt  to  French  inspiration, 
364-5  ;  comedy,  368,  374-5  ;  debt  to 
Plaulus's  Menaechmi,  382  «.;  his  rapid 
writing,  386  ;  connexion  with  Jodelle 
and  Gamier,  388,  390,  392-4,  397, 
399;  his  subdivisions  of  drama,  401  ; 
career  parallel  with  Hardy's,  413  ; 
Taming  of  the  Shrew :  debt  to  Gas- 
coigne,  420-1  ;  Italian  influences  on  : 
Two   Gentlemen   of  Verona,  debt    to 


Munday,  422;  Love's  Labour's  Lost, 
debt  to  Larivey,  423  seq. ;  Merry 
Wives,  debt  to  Larivey,  423  Jtvy.;  his 
pedants,  423  seq.,  425  ;/. ;  his  genius, 
450 ;  his  Roman  plays  and  French 
example,  451  ;  the  choric  element  in 
Heniy  F,  A'omeo  and  Juliet,  Antony 
and  Cleopatra,  Coriolanus,  452  ;  mes- 
sengers' speeches,  452  ;  his  treatment 
of  French  history,  452-3. 

Shakespeare,  references  to  his  works : 
AlVs  Well,  411  ;  Antony  and  Cleo- 
patra, 158,  222,  314,  452;  As 
You  Like  Lt,  227  ;  Comedy  of  Errors, 
297,  382  ;/. ;  Coriolanus,  158, 
452  ;  Cymbcline,  226 ;  Hamlet, 
48,  52,  401;  I  LLenry  LV,  176; 
Henry    V,  452;    Hemy   VLLL,   228; 

Julius  Caesar,  158,  177  ;  Loves 
Labour^ s  Lost,  224,423  seq.,  434-6; 
Macbeth,  48;  Measure  for  Measure, 
224,  408,  410,  434-6 ;  Merchant  of 
Venice,  48,  227,  229,  447,  n.  i ;  Merry 
Wives,  423  seq. ;  JSLidsummer  Nighfs 
Dream,  96,  158;  Romeo  and  Juliet, 
409,  439-40,  444;  .Sonnets,  177,  253 
seq. ;  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  420-1,423 ; 
Tempest,  177-8;  Timon  of  Athens, 
220 ;  Twelfth  Night,  41 1 ;  Tzvo  Gentle- 
men of  Verona,  399,  414,  422  ;  Venus 
and  Adonis,  221,  337,  394;  Winters 
Tale,  226,  414;  see  also  5,  7,  11,  35, 
•  51.  133.  144.  170.  I95>  207,  209,211- 
12,  344>  359.  438- 

Shelley,  201. 

Shirley,  Henry,  435. 

Shirley,  James,  435,  438. 

Siberch,  J.,  85  n.,  87,  n,  2. 

Sibilet,  369,  71.  2. 

Sidney,  Sir  Philip,  6,  38,  149,  184,465; 
his  Arcadia,  135,  266  «. ;  his  views  on 
classical  prosody,  238 ;  use  of  Ln 
Memoriam  metre,  240  ;  use  of  com- 
pound epithets,  247  and  n.  2,  248,  344 
and  n.  ;  his  sonneteering,  253;  Astro- 
phel  and  Stella,  256,  257  ;  his  rhyming 
scheme  in  the  sonnet,  265-6  ;  his  con- 
ceit of  blackness,  274  ;  on  the  immor- 
tality of  verse,  279;  his  praise  of 
L'Hopital,  293  and  n.  ;  patron  of 
French  colonial  pioneers,  307  ;  friend- 
ship with  Uu  Plessis,  312,  316  ;  student 
of  Ramus,  327  ;  praised  by  Du  Bartas, 
342  and  ;/.  2  ;  translates  verse  of  Du 
iiartas,  343  and  n.  ;  his  Lady  of  the 
May,  425  n.  ;  his  advocacy  of  classical 
rules  for  tragedy,  361,  442-3;  his 
criticism  of  Gorbcduc,  443. 

Skelton,  John,   100-7,  109 ;  his  trans- 


INDEX 


493 


lations  from  the  French,  ioa-3;  his 
metres  of  short  lines  and  rhymes, 
103-7  ;  English  imitators,  107. 

Smiles,  Samuel,  on  The  Hiigiienols  in 
England,  301,  ;/.  i. 

Smith,  Richard,  467  ;/. 

Smith,  William,  1^6  n. 

Soliman,  Sultan,  404,  447  and  n.  i. 

Soltant',  La,  404. 

Somerset,  Protector,  45,  127,  129,  T47. 

Sonnet :  an  Italian  invention,  202  ;  in 
France,  202-3  >  French  sonnet  in  Eng- 
land, 252  scq.  ;  first  experiments  in 
England,  253 ;  Italian  influences  in 
England,  254;  French  influences,  255 
seq. ;  Elizabethan  plagiarism,  255  ; 
Spenser's  translations  of  Du  Bellay's 
sonnets,  255;  Watson's  collection, 
255  ;  Sidney's  collection,  256-7 ; 
chronology  of  Elizabethan  sonnet-se- 
quences, 256  ;/.  ;  Daniel's  Delia,  257; 
Constable's  Diana,  257 ;  Drayton's 
Idea,  257  ;  Lodge's  Phil  lis,  257-8  ; 
Prof.  Kastner  on  English  indebtedness 
to  French,  25S  «.  ;  examples  of  Eliza- 
bethan plagiarism  by  Daniel,  258-9, 
462  ;  Lodge,  260,  455-62  ;  Constable, 
261  ;  Spenser,  262-3;  Drummond  of 
Hawthornden,  463-4  ;  Chapman,  465 
seq. ;  metrical  schemes  :  Italian,  264  ; 
French,  264;  English,  264-5;  Gas- 
coigne's  description,  264-5  >  Shake- 
speare's rhyming  scheme,  265  ;  Sidney's, 
265-6  ;  Surrey's,  265  n. ;  Daniel's,  266 ; 
Spenser's,  266. 

Soothem,  John,  213,  214  and  «.,  241, 
242  «.,  249. 

Sophocles,  1S6,  359,  427;  translations 
by  Scaliger  and  Alamanni,  381  «. 

Southampton,  Earl  of,  170. 

Spenser,  Edmund,  his  Shepheards 
Calender,  112, 184-5 ;  his  Anacreontics, 
219;  his  praise  of  Du  Bellay,  211  ;  his 
Sonnets,  237,  255,  262-3,  266 ;  his 
Ruines  of  Time,  280  ;  on  Du  Bartas, 
347  ;  influenced  by  Du  Bartas,  349. 

Spingarn,  Prof.  J.  E.,  252,  n.  2. 

Stafford,  Sir  Edward,  194. 

Stapleton,  Richard,  466,  467,  n.  i. 

Stephenses,  see  Eliennes. 

Stephanas  Junius  Brutus,  pseudonym, 
see  Du  Plessis-Marly. 

Stemhold,  Thomas,  113. 

Stirling,  Earl  of,  see  Alexander,  Sir 
William. 

Stow,  John,  his  Chroniek,  183  n. 

Strype,  John  :  Annals  and  life  of  Arch- 
bishop Parker,  301 ;/. 

Stubbs,  J.  W,,  43. 


Sturel,  Rene,  153  «. 

Sturm,  Johann,  \\\s De  ///iila(ione,2^\  n. 

Sully,  Due  de,  299. 

Surrey,  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of,  6,  33, 

66,    100,   109-12,    115-19,    121,    125, 

127,  159,  183,  185,  253,  265  M. 
Swinburne,  Algernon  Charles,  ix. 
Sylvester,    Joshua,    translator    of    Du 

Bartas's  La  Semaine,  9  n.,  337  and  n., 

344-9>  .=551.  353-5- 

Taille,  Jean  de  la,  his  Les  Gabaonites 
and  Saiil  Furieux,  398. 

Tarlton,  Richard,  107  «. 

Tarldni's  .Vews  out  0/ Purgatory,  212. 

Tasso,  Torquato,  5,  133,  359;  '  Tasso's 
Picture'  and  'Tasso's  Robe',  11; 
praise  of  Catherine  de'  Medici,  23  ; 
waning  influence  in  France,  24;  in- 
fluence in  England,  210.  254;  Daniel's 
plagiarism,  236;   his  A/ninta,  441. 

Tasso's  Melancholy,  1 1 . 

Temple,  William,  327. 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  Lord,  In  Mevioj-iam 
metre  in  France,  202,  20S,  240. 

Terence,  81,  86,  360,  382,  389. 

Tessier,  Carle,  55  ;/. 

Tessier,  G.,  55  n. 

Theatre  in  England :  first  theatres, 
380-1  ;  Burbage  and  the  first  play- 
house,' 380-1 ;  sixteenth  -  century 
growth,  381. 

Theatre  in  France,  376  seq. ;  French 
theatre  a  mediaeval  organization,  376  ; 
dramatic  guilds,  376  seq.  ;  Les  Con- 
freres de  la  Passion  at  the  Hotel  de 
Bourgogne,  376-7 ;  their  wide  in- 
fluence, 377 ;  the  stage  and  its  ma- 
chinery, 377  ;  Les  Etifants  sans  Sotici 
and  Gringoire,  377-8  ;  Les  Clercs  de  la 
Basoche  jawyer  actors),  378  ;  touring 
companies,  378-9 :  amateur  actors, 
379 ;  theatre  becomes  wholly  profes- 
sional, 379 ;  the  Hotel  de  Bourgogne 
opposes  classical  tendencies,  379,  383- 
4;  professional  actors  at,  413. 

Theocritus,  87,  217. 

Th^ologastres,  Les,  370. 

Thomson,  Richard,  304. 

Threadneedle  Street,  Huguenot  church 
in,  301  ;  registers,  301, «.  i,  302, 

Thucydides,  90. 

Tig)-e,  Le,  314. 

Tilley,  Arthur,  vii. 

Tintoretto,  5. 

Titian,  4. 

Tofte,  Robert,  256  «. 

Tomkis,  Thomas  :  his  IJngua  and  its 
French  original,  441  and  n. 


494 


INDEX 


Torraca,  Francesco,  1 1 1  n. 
Tory,  Geoffroy,  82,  8^^. 
Traj^edy,  sre  Drama. 
Travcrs,  Walter,  303. 
Trinity  College,  Dublin,  founded,  43. 
Triomphc  dc  la  Ligue,  Lc,  404. 
Trissino,    Giovanni  Giorgio,    116;    liis 
Sofonisba  and  Similliini,  381  n. 
Turberville,  George,  184. 
Turnebns,  Adrian,  on  the  loss  of  Calais, 

34- 

Two  Tragedies  in  One,  407. 

Tyard,  Pontusde,  188-90,  206,  257,;/. 2. 

Tyndale,  William,  141-3. 

Udall,  Nicholas  :  his  Ralph  Roister 
Doister,  adaptation  of  Plautus,  419. 

Unities:  Jean  de  la  Taille's  dictuin, 
388-9  ;  '  unity  of  place  '  transgressed 
by  Jodelle,  389 ;  Hardy's  treatment, 
414-15;  in  England,  417;  in  Gas- 
coigne's  Jocasta,  428  ;  defied  in  early 
Elizabethan  tragedy,  429  ;  neglect  of 
by  Marlowe,  431-2  ;  Sidney's  views 
on,  442-3;  Ben  Jonson's  criticism, 
449  and  n. 

Upham,  Alfred  H.,  viii ;  estimate  of  Du 
Bartas's  influence  in  England,  349,  n.  3. 

Urquhart,  Sir  Thomas,  i6r. 

Vaganay,  Prof.  Hugues,  vii,  n,  i,  226, 

n.  2. 
Vandyke,  55  n. 
Van  Meteren,  Jacob,  142-3. 
Varro  :  his  Saturae  Menippeae,  298  n. 
Vauquelin  de  la  Fresnaie,  203  n.,  207, 

352,  366  and  n.,  440  //. 
Vega,  Lope  de,  359. 
Venus  and  Adonis   by  Ronsard,  221  ; 

by  Shakespeare,  222. 
Verard,  Antoine,  94. 
Verdier,  Antoine  du,  sieur  de  Vauprivas, 

310  «.,  439,  «.  3. 
Vergil,  Polydore,  59. 
Vergil,  81,  90,  112,  119,  183,  286,  334, 

348.  359?  432. 
Veronese,  see  Paolo  Veronese. 
Vianey,  M.,  vii,  ;/.  i,  226,  n,  2. 
Vida,  an  imitation,  252,  n.  3. 
Villegagnon,   Nicholas    Durand,   sieur 

de,  305. 
Villehardouin,  Geoffroy  de,  95. 
Villon,  Francois,  14,  15,65,  97,  112, 133. 


Vinciguerra,  Antonio,  118. 
Viollet-Le-Duc,  M.,  352,  Jt.  2,  424  «., 

44',  ''''.  I. 
Viret,  Pierre,  150,  308. 
Virginia,  linglish  colonization  of,  8. 
Vocables     compose/,,    see     Compound 

epithets. 

Waddington,  C. :  Life  of  Ramus,  325  7t. 
Waldegrave,  Robert,  303  and  ;/. 
Wallace,  Dr.  C.  W.,  302  ;/. 
Walsingham,  Sir  Francis,  311,  328  and 

«•,  343«- 

Walton,  Izaak,  170. 

Warning  for  Fair  IVomen,  A,  407. 

Warton,  Thomas,  108,  372. 

Warwick,  Earl  of,  280. 

W^atson,  Thomas,  184;  adaptations  of 
Ronsard,  212-13,  221,  «.  2;  use  of  the 
word  '  Amour  ',  237  n. ;  his  Hecatom- 

pathia,  255-6  and  //. 

Webster,  John,  359  ;  his  White  Devil, 
408, 449  ;  his  play  of  The  Guise,  435  ; 
criticism  of  classical  rules,  449. 

Wentworth,  Lord,  35. 

Whitgift,  John,  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, 147. 

Whitney,  Geffrey :  his  Choice  of  Em- 
blems, 19  n. 

Wiclif,  John,  140. 

Williams,  Thomas,  466. 

Wilson,  Thomas,  137. 

Wither,  George,  211. 

Wolf,  Reginald,  87,  88. 

Wordsworth,  William,  187,  359. 

W^orman,  E.  J.,  87,  n.  i. 

Wyatt,  Sir  Thomas  :  debt  to  Petrarch, 
109-10;  to  Sannazarro,  in;  Italian 
influences,  1(1-12;  debt  to  Marot, 
112;  to  Melinde  Saint-Gelais,  116  ;  to 
Alamanni,  1 16-18;  his  use  of  Alaman- 
ni's  language  and  metre,  119-22;  his 
short  metres,  122-4  •  ^^^  ^^^°  6,  33,  66, 
100,  loi,  115,  125-7,  1S3-5.  253, 
265  n. 

Wyndham,  George,  x. 

Wynkyn  de  Worde,  85,  86. 

Yonge,  Nicolas :  his  Miisiia  Trans- 
alpina,  54,  «.  2. 

Zuccharo,  57. 


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